


FBI Femslash

by thelarkascending



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), The X-Files, White Collar (TV 2009)
Genre: Bisexual Dana Scully, Bisexual Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, But especially Emily Prentiss, But mostly there's smut, CBS robbed us, CM fans totally deserved Gay Prentiss, Canon LGBTQ Character, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Flirting, Hookups, I mean seriously so much Gay Shit, Lesbian Emily Prentiss, Lesbian Sex, Lesbians, Queer Women, Sex, There's some smut, but i digress, gay shit, one-night stand, there's some angst, there's some fluff, there's something for everyone, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:13:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 60,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28117500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelarkascending/pseuds/thelarkascending
Summary: A collection of unrelated one-shots in which FBI and FBI-adjacent women from various television shows get it on with each other.  These do not take place in the same universe.  Mostly Criminal Minds, The X-Files, and White Collar.  Emily Prentiss is always a lesbian.  Ratings range from Teen to Explicit.  No General Audiences because I am too sweary for that shit.  See the notes at the beginning of each chapter for pairings, ratings, and chapter summaries.
Relationships: Alex Blake/Emily Prentiss, Annie Edison/Emily Prentiss, Dana Scully/Emily Prentiss, Diana Barrigan/Sophie Devereaux, Diana Berrigan/Alex Hunter, Diana Berrigan/Emily Prentiss, Elle Greenaway/Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, Emily Prentiss/Carolyn Martens, Fiona Duncan/Emily Prentiss, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Emily Prentiss, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Tara Lewis, Monica Reyes/Bedelia du Maurier, Monica Reyes/Dana Scully, Monica Reyes/Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia/Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia/Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, Tara Lewis/Alana Bloom, Tara Lewis/Emily Prentiss
Comments: 13
Kudos: 77





	1. Seduction in St. Louis

**Author's Note:**

> This whole thing started out of a desire to write some shameless crossover smut involving my two favorite beautiful, badass, not-canonically-gay-but-still-lesbian-icons FBI agents: Dana Scully and Emily Prentiss. It sort of spiraled from there. This fic takes place in the late 90s. Emily is a new agent working out of the St. Louis field office when a very strange case brings a notorious pair of agents to her city. Enjoy! Emily Prentiss/Dana Scully (Criminal Minds, The X-Files), rated E.

“Spooky Mulder?” Emily Prentiss said in disbelief, “What does he want with this case?”

“Who the fuck even knows with that guy?” her supervisor said, “Could be aliens; could be werewolves. Maybe it’s leprechauns. Just be nice to him, okay?”

Emily sighed and slumped down in her chair once her supervisor had gone. Of course she got stuck with this. She was a rookie and a woman, and often found herself at the bottom of the pecking order on both accounts. She rose from her chair when two trenchcoated figures, one tall and one short, entered the bullpen. She crossed over to greet them.

“You must be Agent Mulder,” she said, extending her hand, “I’m Emily Prentiss.”

“Fox Mulder, this is Dana Scully,” the tall man said as they both shook Emily’s hand. Emily hadn’t known anything about Mulder’s partner. She was a petite, strikingly beautiful redhead in her thirties, with stormy gray eyes and a serious expression that was slightly undercut by the adorable splash of freckles across her nose. “I thought Tom Driscoll was leading this investigation,” Mulder said.

“Yeah, uh, Agent Driscoll asked me to show you everything we’ve got,” Emily said, pushing open a door and motioning to the other agents to go through, “Right this way.” Emily’s eyes met the redheaded woman’s as she passed through the doorway. Her heart skipped a beat, and she had to stop herself from checking out this intriguing agent walking a few steps ahead of her. _Keep it in your pants, Prentiss,_ she reminded herself, _you’re a closeted FBI agent; you can’t check out hot girls at work._ She tried to stay focused as she talked through the case with Scully and Mulder: seven very mysterious disappearances in seven months, and not a single concrete lead. She fought a losing battle against the urge to sneak furtive glances at Agent Scully’s chest as she leaned over the table, watched the corners of her perfect mouth turn down into a pensive scowl as she examined crime scene photos, smiled at her exaggerated eye roll when Mulder suggested a paranormal explanation, felt an ache between her thighs when Scully’s fingers brushed against hers as they both reached for the same evidence bag. Emily felt like kicking herself; she _knew_ she wasn’t being subtle.

What Emily didn’t know was just how much Dana Scully was _enjoying_ this. Oh, she knew that Emily was looking at her, checking her out. She could feel it in her gut and in, well, other places, too, to say the least. Usually if a woman looked at her like this it would have little to no effect on her, but Emily Prentiss…Who _was_ this raven-haired young agent with the charming dimples and the bedroom eyes, and why did she make Dana feel like her skin might spontaneously combust?

Mulder, now satisfied with his examination of the case and the evidence, decided it was time to leave. He might have been content with his usual Irish goodbye, but Scully hung back to wrap up with Emily.

“We’re staying at the Gateway Motel off I-44,” Scully said as she wrote the details down on the back of her business card, “So if anything comes up, you know where to find us.” She smiled and handed the card over. “It was really nice meeting you, Emily.”

Emily smiled and took the card, her pulse quickening as her fingers met Dana’s once again. “Nice meeting you, too, Dana,” she said. Scully blinked, unaccustomed to hearing her given name used in a professional setting, although she had to admit she liked the way it sounded coming out of Emily’s mouth. _I wonder what she’d sound like moaning it in the throes of ecstasy,_ Scully shocked herself with the thought. She turned and left before Emily had time to notice the flush of color rapidly spreading across her cheeks and chest.

Emily wasn’t sure what had compelled her—maybe it was the way the redhead had smiled at her, or maybe it was the electricity she’d felt when their eyes first met, or maybe it was just because she hadn’t gotten laid in a while—but she found herself knocking on the door of Dana Scully’s motel room at nine o’clock at night. The door opened, and there was Dana. She’d changed out of her work clothes, and she somehow looked even sexier in her baggy sweatshirt than in her tailored suit.

“Emily,” she said with a gentle smile, “this is a surprise.”

“I thought of something,” Emily said nervously, “This most recent victim, Helen Braithwaite—her sister said she’d just quit a job in College Hill. That’s less than five blocks from where victims three and four were last seen.”

Dana tilted her head. “You drove all the way out here to tell me that?”

_Busted._ Emily looked down at the ground and bit her lower lip.

Dana tossed her head back and laughed softly. She opened the door a little wider. “Why don’t you come on in, Emily?”

Once inside, Emily asked, “So is this, uh, is this a typical case in your line of work?” deliberately trying to keep the conversation light and work-related in the hopes that Dana wouldn’t notice how turned on she was.

“There’s really no such thing as a _typical_ case in my line of work,” Dana said, motioning for Emily to sit down on the bed. Emily perched at the foot of the bed, and Dana sat straight up against the headboard, both of them wanting to keep enough distance for plausible deniability.

“Seems like a pretty cool gig, though…the X-Files,” Emily said.

“Flying across the country on a moment’s notice? Spending more nights in shitty motels than my own apartment? Never having time for a personal life? Yeah, it’s a great gig.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Emily, “All the travel, all the adventure—I think it sounds kind of fun.”

“Wanna trade?” Dana scoffed. Emily smiled. Dana smiled back. They both inched ever so slightly closer to the center of the bed.

“So, uh, your partner…” Emily began tentatively, “He doesn’t really _believe_ in all that stuff, does he? You know, UFOs and everything?”

“Oh, he absolutely does,” Dana said emphatically.

“Do you?” Emily asked.

“I’m definitely a lot more skeptical than Mulder,” Dana said, “But…I have seen some things over the years that I just can’t explain with science.”

“Like what?” Emily asked quietly, scooting in closer to Dana.

“Like the same oddly-shaped fingerprints at two crime scenes 90 years apart,” she began as she crept closer to the curious brunette, “Like five teenage boys getting struck by lightning in the same small Oklahoma town. Like babies being born with tails.” She paused and looked at Emily’s wide eyes and parted lips. “Like a man with an uncanny ability to tell you exactly how and when you’re going to die.”

“Really?” Emily asked.

“Really,” Dana said, leaning in closer, “And…apparently I don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Emily asked, leaning in and gazing deep into Dana’s eyes.

“Die,” Dana answered, holding Emily’s gaze. They were sitting pretty close to each other by now, close enough that Emily could have counted the freckles on Dana’s nose.

“I still can’t believe that a medical doctor would end up investigating these kinds of things,” Emily said with a flirty smile.

“No less likely than an ambassador’s daughter catching criminals in Missouri, I guess,” Dana replied with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

Emily edged in closer until her knee was practically brushing against Dana’s. She shook her head, “That’s more an act of rebellion than anything else,” she joked.

Dana crept her hand forward until her fingers found Emily’s. “You’re the rebellious type, are you?” she asked coyly.

Mere inches separated Dana’s lips from Emily’s as they both held each other’s gaze intently.

“Dana,” Emily whispered, leaning in just a little closer.

“Emily,” Dana whispered back, tilting her head to just the right angle.

“Dana,” even softer.

“Emily,” barely audible.

Their lips met—slowly, tentatively at first, but the magnetic pull was just too strong, too overpowering, and the kiss became deeper, hungrier. It was passionate, and it was wild, and it was messy, and oh, god, it felt so good! Their tongues danced with each other in a tantalizing back-and-forth; their hands grasped desperately at hair, hips, knees, jaws—anything to keep them grounded as the sensation of each other’s bodies sent them both higher and higher. Dana’s fingers clenched around a fistful of jet-black hair, and she tugged just enough to make Emily gasp. She licked her way up the length of the younger woman’s snow-white neck before biting playfully at her earlobe, as Emily’s deft hands pushed the back of Dana’s sweatshirt up and began running her fingers along the redhead’s bare spine. Dana shuddered contentedly at the sensation, which only encouraged Emily to continue. When she realized Dana wasn’t wearing anything under her sweatshirt, she locked eyes with the redhead and cocked one eyebrow seductively. Dana smiled and guided Emily’s hands around her ribcage. She moaned softly at the feeling of the brunette’s hands on her breasts.

“Are we really going to do this?” Emily murmured as she gently pushed Dana down onto her back and moved to straddle her.

“I might be out of practice,” Dana breathed out between kisses as she unbuckled Emily’s belt and slipped it out of its belt loops, “I haven’t slept with a woman since my first year of medical school.”

“You’re doing great so far,” Emily purred in her ear. Dana laughed. Her laugh turned into a sigh when she felt Emily’s soft lips land on her neck. She pushed the brunette’s blazer off her shoulders and started tugging at the hem of her sweater. Emily sat up to take it off, and felt a swell of pride when she saw how Dana’s eyes widened at the sight of Emily in her red lace bra. Emily had great tits; she knew that, but something about the way this woman looked at them with such… _reverence_ sent a rush of warmth between her thighs. She leaned back down and kissed Dana deeply and passionately, resting one leg between the redhead’s thighs. Dana arched her back at the contact, giving Emily easy access to pull her sweatshirt up over her stomach. Dana wriggled out of it the rest of the way and then lay back down, grabbing Emily’s firm ass and pulling her in closer. Emily mashed her lips into Dana’s neck, and the redhead moaned at the feeling of the warm mouth on her neck, the scratchy lace against her bare torso, and the thigh nestled between hers. Emily kept kissing further down until she was certain she was below the neckline, and sank her teeth into Dana’s collarbone. Dana whined. She felt Emily’s tongue slide into her mouth and her nimble fingers circle one of her taut nipples as she unzipped the brunette’s slacks and pushed them down over nicely toned legs. Emily kicked them off along with her socks before returning her focus to Dana’s breasts.

“Fuck,” Dana sighed as the younger woman’s teeth tugged gently at one of her nipples. She could feel herself getting incredibly wet—she hardly ever got this wet this fast when she had sex with men, but Emily just seemed to know exactly how to drive her wild. One of Emily’s hands palmed Dana’s breast while the other reached down and unbuttoned her jeans. She pulled back from the redhead just enough to hook her fingers under the waistband of her pants and underwear and pull them off. She sat back on her heels and smiled. She couldn’t imagine anything more erotic than this gorgeous woman lying naked in front of her. Her skin was flushed and her pussy wet, and she panted impatiently as she waited for Emily’s touch.

Dana couldn’t wait any longer. She sat up and grabbed the brunette’s waist. “Touch me, Emily,” she pleaded. Emily turned Dana around and positioned her on her knees, facing the headboard, with her legs spread apart. She came up behind the shorter woman and wrapped herself around her. With her left hand, she kneaded Dana’s breast and pinched her nipple. Her right hand slid down through Dana’s warm, wet folds.

“Oh, fuck, you feel so good, Dana,” Emily groaned into the redhead’s neck. Dana arched her back into Emily and hissed as the brunette began a steady rhythm against her clit. She reached a hand back to run her fingers through the soft, silky hair of the woman who was now peppering kisses all along her neck. Her other hand flew to her unoccupied breast and began mirroring the motions of Emily’s left hand. A high-pitched whine fell from her lips, and she knew she was close.

“That’s it,” Emily whispered in her ear, “Come for me, sweet girl.” Dana moaned as Emily kept rubbing her clit, drawing out her orgasm as long as possible. Emily squeezed her own thighs together; the sight of this gorgeous redhead coming apart in front of her was getting her extremely aroused, and oh, god, she was so wet already. She eased up on Dana’s clit as the older woman came down from her high. Once Dana had caught her breath, she tilted her head back and brought Emily’s lips to hers. Emily shifted back a little, and Dana turned around to face her. She tucked a lock of dark hair behind Emily’s ear and kissed her slowly and languidly.

“Why are you still wearing this?” she asked with a frown as she tugged at Emily’s bra strap. Emily chuckled and reached behind herself to unhook her bra and take it off.

“Better?” Emily asked playfully.

“You are exquisite,” Dana said, reaching up to palm Emily’s perfect breasts. Emily’s breath hitched. She closed her eyes and moaned softly, and she felt Dana’s tongue swipe over a hard nipple. The throbbing between her legs grew stronger, and she rubbed her thighs together, trying to ease some of the tension. Dana grabbed her firmly by the waist and guided her down onto the mattress.

“My turn,” she practically growled.

“Dana, that’s really okay…” Emily began.

“Shh,” Dana interrupted, “I want to make you come.” She grabbed Emily’s drenched underwear and pulled them down off her hips and over her legs. Emily whimpered as Dana’s slender fingers explored the contours of her pussy, and she caught the redhead’s lips in a searing kiss.

Dana pulled back. “I want to taste you,” she said tentatively, “Can I taste you?” Emily licked her lips and nodded. Dana shuffled down the bed and pushed the brunette’s knees apart. She buried her face in the apex of Emily’s thighs and began lapping up her juices.

“Oh, fuck,” Emily whined, “Oh, god, Dana!” Dana took Emily’s clit into her mouth and sucked hard, and Emily gripped the bedsheets and practically screamed. A finger against her g-spot sent her tumbling over the edge as her orgasm washed over her in waves of ecstasy. Dana pulled back and looked up at Emily, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Emily blinked hazily and ran her trembling fingers through ginger hair.

“Come here,” Emily whispered. Dana crawled up and lay beside Emily. She nuzzled in against the younger woman’s neck, her index finger drawing lazy circles in the valley between her breasts. Emily hummed contentedly. She wrapped her arms around the small redhead and planted a tender kiss on her brow. Dana closed her eyes and sighed. Emily reached over and turned the lamp off, then pulled the covers over both of them.

In the morning, Emily was gone. Dana knew she would be; Emily Prentiss was hardly the type to make a girl breakfast. And anyway, this wasn’t some grand romance. It was about sex; it was about animal magnetism; it was about both of them needing to scratch that itch. Dana smiled to herself when she saw Emily’s bitemark on her collarbone in the bathroom mirror. _At least my shirt’ll cover it,_ she thought, _how considerate._ She finished getting ready and left the room. Mulder was already waiting for her.

He leaned against a wall and sized her up with a knowing smile. “You and Prentiss have fun last night?”

“Shut up, Mulder.”


	2. Of Unsubs and Aliens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monica’s a believer. Emily’s a skeptic. Every so often they put aside their differences and fuck. This is definitely not canon compliant with the X-Files timeline, but it’s fun, and it’s sexy, so who cares? Emily Prentiss/Monica Reyes (Criminal Minds, The X-Files), rated M.

“You’ve never had an unsub whose behavior you couldn’t answer for? Whose cruelty just defied all reason?” Monica asked.

“Sure, all the time,” Emily replied.

“So then we both investigate unexplained phenomena,” Monica said.

“Well, yeah, but…” Emily began.

Monica raised her eyebrows. Emily had to admit, it was hard to argue with this line of reasoning. Before she could formulate a response, the elevator door closed, and Monica’s lips were on hers. She tried to focus on her snappy rejoinder and _not_ the sexy woman kissing her as they rode up six floors to Monica’s apartment.

“The unsubs I catch act the way they do because something went wrong in their brains,” Emily said as she followed Monica down the long hallway, “Even if I can’t always understand it or explain it, it’s a completely human, earthly phenomenon. It’s _ab_ normal, not _para_ normal.”

Monica fished her keys out of her purse. She turned around to kiss Emily before unlocking her apartment door. She shook her head, “You’re so stubborn sometimes,” she said as she pushed open the door and flipped on the lights, “How do you explain Erwin Lukesh? You’ve studied serial killers; you must know that story. How does someone manage to be in two places at once?”

“Oh, god, Monica, that’s ridiculous; he didn’t!” Emily groaned as they both threw off their coats and shoes, not caring where they landed.

“I saw it with my own eyes, Em,” Monica said, closing the distance between her and Emily and snaking her arms around the skeptic’s waist, “John Doggett was in my apartment, handing me a housewarming present, and at the same he was shot in the head by Lukesh in a back alley fourteen miles away.” She brought her lips to Emily’s and kissed her deeply.

“You went through a trauma, sweetie,” Emily pushed a lock of dark hair behind Monica’s ear and gently dragged a finger along her jawline, “Your memory is fractured; it’s…unreliable.”

“He died, Emily,” Monica insisted, gazing intently into Emily’s eyes.

“Sure he did.” Emily returned her lips to Monica’s and slid her tongue into Monica’s mouth. She tangled her fingers in Monica’s hair and heard Monica respond with a soft hum. They kissed passionately and held each other tightly, unable to get enough of each other. Monica sank her teeth into Emily’s bottom lip, eliciting a delicious whimper. She pulled back and looked at Emily hungrily, and Emily could have sworn she heard Monica growl. She desperately crashed her lips into Monica’s neck.

“Sigmund Freud believed in telepathy,” Monica gasped as Emily lavished kisses along her neck and collarbone.

“He also believed in penis envy,” Emily retorted, reaching up to palm one of Monica’s breasts. Monica kissed her again, a searing, hungry kiss.

“Dozens of reported abductees have had strange objects recovered from their bodies,” Monica said, firmly gripping Emily’s ass and grinding against her.

Emily pushed Monica up against a wall. “Small foreign objects can enter the body and implant under the skin naturally,” she replied, trailing her fingers up the inside of Monica’s leg and under the hem of her skirt, “It happens all the time.” Monica’s hands flew to Emily’s hair and pulled her in closer.

“Okay, but what about—oh! —people who can describe what happened during their—ah, fuck—abductions?” Monica moaned as Emily’s hand completed its journey up her thigh and felt her over her underwear.

“I can show you the studies on hallucinations during sleep paralysis,” Emily murmured into Monica’s neck before sucking at her pulse point.

“I’d much rather you just shut up and fuck me.”

They scrambled into Monica’s bedroom and quickly shed their clothes. All discussion of ghosts and aliens and paranormal occurrences gave way to kisses and caresses and breathy, satisfied moans. By day they tangled with each other verbally and intellectually; by night they tangled physically, reveling in each other’s bodies. Monica might be insane, Emily thought, but nobody else could make her climax like this, as she felt herself soaring toward orgasm once, twice, three times. Emily’s thinking was so rigid, Monica thought, but her body so pliant, so supple. She marveled at how this woman who pushed back stubbornly against everything she said would so willingly fall apart beneath her whenever they were in bed together.

Monica awoke the next morning to the sound of the shower running. Her eyes flew open when she remembered just _who_ was in the shower and what _irrefutable point_ she wanted to make to her. Emily emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

No sooner had Emily closed the bathroom door than Monica propped herself up on one elbow and asked, “What about that one unsub you had a few months ago? The satanic cannibal who forced women to eat fingers.”

“Jesus Christ, I don’t even get a good morning?” Emily teased as she sat on the edge of the bed next to Monica.

“Good morning,” Monica said sweetly. She tilted her chin up to meet Emily’s lips in a gentle kiss. “So, the cannibal…” she continued.

“Floyd Feylinn Ferrell,” Emily said, standing up to begin her hunt around Monica’s bedroom for her discarded clothes, “What about him?”

“What are the odds a psychopath who goes around eating women would fly under the radar as long as he did?” Monica asked.

Emily bent down and picked her underwear up off the floor. “Yeah, I remember; he kept catching breaks: His records from the psychiatric hospital got destroyed; he even got pulled over with a body in the trunk of his car, but they let him go.”

“Right,” said Monica as she watched Emily gather her clothes and get dressed, “He escaped capture for years because he caught a long series of _extremely improbable_ breaks.”

“He was just lucky, I guess,” Emily shrugged, turning to look at herself in the mirror. She smoothed her fingers through her hair and over her rumpled shirt, then turned back to face Monica and leaned against the dresser.

“ _Impossibly_ lucky,” Monica pushed back, “You said it yourself; he was impossibly lucky. You said sometimes it felt like maybe someone or something else was pulling the strings.”

“Yeah, it was really fucking weird; I’ll give you that, Monica, but that’s all it was,” Emily said, pushing off Monica’s dresser and walking over to the bed.

“You’re still not convinced,” Monica said.

“No,” said Emily as she bent down to place one last kiss on Monica’s lips, “But let’s keep having this discussion from time to time, shall we?”


	3. Duality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scully will never love anyone the way she loves Mulder. But she can still love Monica the way she loves Monica. Dana Scully/Monica Reyes (The X-Files), rated M.

Dana always had a thing for tall brunettes with expressive brown eyes: the first boy she ever kissed, her first girlfriend in college, the few people she’d dated during medical school and her early years with the Bureau, Mulder, Monica. She may have had a type, but these two great loves of her life were hardly the same. Good looks and fringe beliefs aside, Mulder and Monica were starkly different, and Dana loved them each in their own unique way.

Loving Mulder was intense, frustrating, challenging. There were times she hated him every bit as much as she loved him, but she never for a moment considered turning her back on him or giving him up. Their bond was unbreakable, enduring, and unlike anything Dana had ever felt before. Sex with Mulder was fiery, passionate, animalistic. They fucked all night and into the morning with the same kind of electrically charged push-and-pull that characterized their casework together. When Mulder was inside her, she felt a tantalizing, intoxicating burning in her belly that made her hungry for more.

Loving Monica was different. It was calmer, quieter, gentler, but every bit as intense. Her love for Mulder burned; her love for Monica smoldered. Sex with Monica was transcendent, soulful, healing, almost spiritual. They worshipped each other’s bodies with tender reverence. When Monica was inside her, she felt elevated, whole; she felt close to God.

Mulder had given her seven years as her partner and best friend. Seven years of love and exasperation and deep, deep trust and near-constant bickering before he’d disappeared on her. She’d never resent him for doing what he had to do, but her heart still broke when he left. Mulder knew her better than anyone. He looked deep into her and saw her soul. Monica had come into her life just as everything was in chaos. Her love for Monica blossomed even as she was reeling from loss and terrified for the future—hers, Mulder’s, and William’s. She’d felt like a crumbling shell of who she used to be, but Monica helped her pick up the pieces and feel alive again. Monica had been there for William’s birth, had stayed beside her as she labored. _You look amazingly beautiful, Dana._ She loved both of them for everything they’d given her.

But Mulder was gone, and Monica was here, and right now, they were lying in bed together, Dana nuzzled in against Monica’s left shoulder, one arm draped across her, ghosting her fingers over the tall brunette’s right bicep, while Monica’s left hand raked her fingers through ginger hair, gently scratching Dana’s scalp. Dana looked up and saw Monica’s face twisted with worry. Her brow was furrowed, and she chewed on her bottom lip pensively.

“Everything alright, Mon?” Dana asked.

Monica snapped out of deep thought. “Hmm? Oh, yeah, all good,” she said, rather unconvincingly.

“What’s on your mind, baby?” Dana asked.

Monica exhaled sharply. “I, uh, I’m trying to think of how to phrase this in a way that doesn’t sound clingy or reductive or like I’m asking ‘Hey, what are we?’ you know, but—”

“But you want to know what this is,” Dana nodded.

“I was just thinking,” Monica began, “Well, I mean, Mulder…”

“Yeah, Mulder,” Dana said, “I’ll never stop loving him, or looking for him, or fighting for him and for the baby we made together.” Monica sighed. “But,” Dana continued, “Mulder’s not my everything. He’s not my ‘one true love’—not that I believe in stuff like that or anything. He’ll always have my heart, but not my whole heart, because…because there’s a part of it that belongs to you, that wants you, that’ll still keep loving you even if we do find Mulder.”

“You love me?” Monica said.

“I do,” Dana said, “I love you, Monica.”

Monica smiled. “I love you, too.”

Dana reached up and kissed Monica passionately, and Monica felt the truth of Dana’s words on her soft, tender lips. Dana’s love wasn’t finite. It contained multitudes, and there was more than enough for both Mulder and her.


	4. Here's Looking at You, Kid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After seeing Emily off to Paris, JJ now has to return to her old life like nothing happened. It’s sad, but it’s also the perfect opportunity to quote Casablanca. Emily Prentiss/Jennifer Jareau (Criminal Minds), rated M.

JJ tried her best to relax, clear her mind, and not let her emotions get the best of her. She wanted to focus on this moment, be present in the here and now. She didn’t want to think about tomorrow, or her flight home, or the life that was waiting for her there. This might be the last time she and Emily ever made love, and by god, she was going to enjoy it, cherish it, revel in it. And besides, how could anyone possibly feel sad with Emily Prentiss’ head between their legs?

She sighed contentedly as she felt Emily’s mouth against her, her tongue moving _just right_. She reached down and plunged her fingers into silky black hair. Emily continued working her magic, taking JJ higher and higher. Emily just seemed to know every inch of her so well, like her nimble mouth and fingers were purposefully designed to make JJ fall apart at her touch. There was a lot to like about Will, to be sure, but he was never this attentive or this skillful when he was going down on her. She gripped the sheets and writhed and moaned as her orgasm washed over her. For a few blissful moments, there was nothing else in the world; there was just _Emily_.

Tears began to fall from her eyes, seemingly of their own volition, as she came down. Emily slid up the bed and gently wiped them away. JJ looked up into Emily’s expressive brown eyes and saw love and tenderness and genuine concern.

“I’m sorry,” JJ whispered.

Emily shook her head. “Don’t be,” she whispered back. She leaned down and tenderly kissed JJ’s forehead. JJ pulled her back in and passionately kissed her lips. She rolled onto her side and snuggled in next to Emily, burying her face in the brunette’s chest. Emily wrapped her strong arms around the tearful blonde. They lay there in silence for a few moments.

“Emily…” JJ began.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Emily murmured, stroking her hair.

JJ pulled back to look at Emily. They lay side by side, gazing into each other’s eyes. “I wish I didn’t have to leave,” she said.

“Yeah, me too,” Emily smiled softly, “But we both know it’s gotta be this way.”

“How am I supposed to go on without you?” JJ whispered.

Emily wiped a tear from JJ’s cheek, then sniffed and wiped one from her own. “You’ll go back to D.C., back to Will and Henry, back to the life you’ve worked to build. You’ll do your job and live your life and raise your little boy. You’ll miss me; you’ll never really _stop_ missing me, but soon enough you’ll be happy again.”

“What about you?” JJ asked.

Emily smiled. “Don’t worry about me,” she assured, “I’ll be fine; I always am.” JJ looked at her skeptically. Emily always tried to be so strong. She certainly knew how to take care of herself; JJ didn’t doubt that, but would she really be fine? After all she’d been through?

“It’s only temporary,” Emily said, reminding herself as much as JJ, “Doyle will eventually be caught. I won’t be dead forever.”

JJ’s bottom lip trembled. “But what if it’s not the same?” she said softly, “What if we can’t go back?”

“Back to the way it was before Doyle?” Emily said, gently stroking JJ’s cheek, “Jennifer, honey, I think that ship’s already sailed.”

JJ took a deep breath. “Em,” she whispered, her voice halting, “I don’t think we’re going to get the chance to be together after this.”

Emily felt the sting of tears behind her eyes once again. “That’s okay,” she said softly. She looked at JJ lovingly and tucked a piece of flaxen hair behind her ear. “You know, I can’t believe I’m actually getting to say this in real life, but…we’ll always have Paris.”


	5. Something Special About Your First

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reid’s in trouble, and he needs the best lawyer out there. Emily knows just who she needs to call. This is pretty long for a one-shot, but what can I say? I really got into it. Emily Prentiss/Fiona Duncan (Criminal Minds), rated M.

_Quantico, 2017_

“I don’t even have a lawyer,” Spencer said.

“About that…” Emily braced herself for what she was about to say. She knew it would be difficult, but she thought nothing could possibly be harder than this, than seeing Reid in jail and so, so terrified. “I have a friend,” she continued. _Friend_ was certainly one way of putting it. “Fiona Duncan. I’ve known her forever; we met when our parents were both posted to Italy. Anyway, now she’s one of the best criminal defense attorneys in D.C. You’d like her a lot.” Emily knew Reid was a damn good profiler, but she hoped against hope that he couldn’t tell just how much she was leaving out. “So, will you let me call her?” she asked.

Though she breathed a sigh of relief when Spencer agreed to let her call Fiona, Emily now felt her stomach turn over. With Spencer, she did her best to keep her calm, steely exterior, but now, alone, she felt her body tremble slightly. Alone, she could admit to herself just how nerve-wracking this would be for her.

Fiona Duncan sat in her office in Foggy Bottom and stared at a blank computer screen. It had been a taxing morning. She’d taken a longer than usual lunch break to pamper herself a little, but now she knew it was time to get back to work. She slumped down in her chair, but bolted upright at the sound of her phone ringing. She gasped slightly when she saw the name on the caller ID: _Emily Prentiss._

_Rome, 1987_

Fiona could feel the tears building behind her eyes as she dragged her feet through the hallways of her new school. It was only her first day, and she already hated it here. She missed Portugal, her old school, her old friends, her old life. She pushed open the heavy door and trudged down the steps of the school building, the whole time doing her best to ignore the bullish, overconfident boy in the grade above her who had been talking to her— _at_ her, really—since she’d left her last class. She’d been so focused on keeping it together that she hadn’t paid attention when he’d told her his name, but now she kind of wished she knew it so she could tell everyone what an obnoxious creep he was. They reached the bottom of the steps, and Fiona hunched her shoulders and fought back tears as the boy leaned in way too close for her comfort.

“Hey, jackass, she’s clearly not interested,” a sharp voice called out from behind them. Fiona turned and looked up to see a tall, skinny, dark-haired older girl dressed almost entirely in black standing with her hands on her hips and glaring at the boy. Fiona’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of the girl. Her black hair and eyeliner contrasted perfectly with her fair skin. Her Joan Jett haircut and combat boots made her look tough, but Fiona also couldn’t help but notice her graceful, elegant features and the soft curves of her body.

“Aw, c’mon, Emily,” the boy said, “I’m just trying to make a new friend here. You do know what friends are, don’t you?”

“Go fuck yourself, Randy,” Emily shot back, holding her death glare and setting her jaw.

The boy shook his head. “Fucking dyke,” he muttered under his breath before turning and walking away. Emily must have heard him, because she flipped him off before turning to Fiona, her face suddenly softer, her big brown eyes now full of kindness.

“Are you okay?” she asked, gently placing a hand on Fiona’s upper arm.

Fiona nodded. “I’m fine.”

Emily narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips slightly as she noticed Fiona’s bottom lip tremble. “You sure?” she asked kindly. A few stray tears tumbled down Fiona’s face as she opened her mouth to talk, but no words came.

“Oh, hey, it’s okay,” Emily reassured her. She put her other hand on Fiona and embraced her in a slightly awkward quasi-hug. Fiona nodded and managed a slight smile.

“Thanks,” she whispered as she gently pulled back to look at Emily.

“Don’t worry about it; that guy’s the worst,” Emily said. Then, “I’m Emily Prentiss.”

“Oh,” Fiona said with a small sniff, “your mother’s charge d’affaires at the embassy, right?”

Emily rolled her eyes slightly. “Yeah, uh, I don’t usually lead with that.” Fiona felt a momentary panic that she’d said the wrong thing, but relaxed when she noticed that Emily was smiling at her. “What’s your name?” she asked.

“Fiona Duncan. My dad was just posted here. It’s my first day.”

“Wow, hell of a way to start, huh?” Emily said with a slight smirk, which immediately vanished when she noticed Fiona’s eyes start to well up again. “Oh, god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I just know how hard it can be to start over, that’s all,” she said.

“You’d think I’d be used to it by now,” said Fiona.

“I’m still not,” Emily replied honestly. Fiona smiled. “Hey, why don’t you let me walk you home,” Emily offered.

“Oh, thanks, but you really don’t have to…” Fiona began.

“I know,” said Emily, “But you’re new to the city, and you look like you could use a friend right now.”

They started off in the direction of Fiona’s house. Fiona told Emily about herself, and Emily told Fiona about herself. They swapped stories from the various countries they’d lived in and commiserated about the difficulties of moving around so much. Emily gave Fiona the rundown on her new school: which teachers were nice, which guys were total assholes, which stairwell always reeked so strongly of weed that Emily sometimes wondered if she could get a contact high between classes.

Fiona’s new bedroom was still full of boxes, but Emily didn’t seem to care as she kicked off her boots and hopped up to sit cross-legged on the bed. Fiona leaned against her dresser and listened to Emily finish telling her story about the same boy who had harassed Fiona earlier.

“And, well, we’ve just hated each other ever since,” Emily finished.

“Yeah, uh, I noticed he called you—He called you a…” Fiona trailed off.

“Fucking dyke?” Emily said with a smirk. Fiona nodded. “Yeah, I get that a lot. I mean, technically he’s not _wrong_.” Fiona’s eyes widened, and her mouth fell open. Emily just shrugged. “I’m a lesbian,” she said matter-of-factly. When Fiona was silent Emily asked, “You, uh, you don’t have a problem with that, do you? I mean, it’s not like I’m going to hit on you or anything.”

“Oh, no, not at all,” Fiona exclaimed, “I don’t have a problem with that; I think it’s great.”

Emily nodded. “Well alright, then.” She smiled at Fiona, and Fiona smiled back.

Lying awake in her bed later that night, Fiona thought of Emily. She thought about the kindness Emily had shown her, and the way they’d talked so easily, like they’d known each other forever. Maybe Rome wouldn’t be so bad. It would be nice, she thought, to have a friend like Emily. When she closed her eyes, she saw Emily’s smile, and found herself smiling, too. As the days went on and she and Emily grew closer, Fiona found herself thinking of Emily more and more. Emily was her first thought in the morning and her last thought at night. She sometimes got butterflies in her stomach when Emily was around, and she felt her heart beat faster whenever Emily smiled at her or touched her.

It felt good, but it felt confusing, too. Was this a crush? Were they flirting with each other? Sure, Emily liked girls, but did _she_? Was it possible she had _feelings_ for Emily? She’d never seriously considered it, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to now. In addition to the fear that came with wondering if she might be gay, Fiona also didn’t want to consider that she might have feelings for another girl who she thought _probably didn’t even have feelings for her._ Emily was a few years older than Fiona. It wasn’t a huge age difference, but it was enough that Fiona thought Emily might never be able to see her as anything more than just her young friend. Still, Fiona couldn’t deny the way that Emily made her feel. _There’ll be time to figure it all out later,_ she told herself, as her mind filled with thoughts of Emily, and her hand crept slowly underneath the waistband of her underwear.

_Quantico, 2017_

“Fiona Duncan,” said the sultry, husky voice on the other end of the line.

“Hey, Fiona, it’s Emily Prentiss,” Emily said nervously.

“Emily,” Fiona said, “Well this is a surprise.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s been a while. How are you?”

“I’m doing pretty well. How are you?”

“Uh, not great,” Emily admitted, “I’ve, um, I’ve got a bit of a situation; that’s…actually why I called.”

“I see,” Fiona said, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s not me,” Emily said, “A friend of mine is in some trouble, and I really think he could use your help. Um, are you free for lunch tomorrow?”

“Emily…” Fiona began.

“I wouldn’t ask if he didn’t need you.” Emily paused. “Please?”

“Yeah, okay,” Fiona sighed, “Lunch tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Fiona,” Emily said, “Really. Thank you.”

_New Haven, 1994_

“You know, my Emily is getting her master’s degree at Yale. You should give her a call.” Fiona’s heart had skipped a beat at the Ambassador’s words. Now she sat on her bed in her dorm room, staring at the numbers on the scrap of paper in her hand. _Emily Prentiss’ phone number._ She shouldn’t be so nervous, she thought; there was really no reason for her to be so nervous. It wasn’t like she was asking Emily out on a date; she was just calling up an old friend, that’s all. It didn’t matter that she was bisexual, or that Emily was a lesbian, or that she’d had a crush on Emily since she was fourteen, or that no matter where she went or who she dated, Emily always lingered in the back of her mind. _It’s not a date,_ she reminded herself. _It’s just two childhood friends reconnecting._ She took a deep breath, steadied herself, and dialed Emily’s number. It went to voicemail.

“Emily, hi, it’s, uh, it’s Fiona Duncan…from Rome. Um, your mom told me you were at Yale, and, well, um, I’m at Yale, too, and I just thought—I mean, I’d love to see you again, if you’re free, you know, catch up and stuff. God, it’s been forever, but, yeah, so I’m-I’m around; give me a call, you know, if you want…” Fiona felt herself rambling and ended her message. _Before I embarrass myself even more,_ she thought. She leaned back against her dorm room wall and groaned. Emily wasn’t even here, and she was already getting flustered.

To Fiona’s delight, Emily returned her call the next day. “Hello?” she said into the phone.

“Fiona, hi, it’s Emily Prentiss. How are you?”

“Emily! Oh my god, hi!” she said, immediately kicking herself for sounding so excited. “I’m, um, I’m great; how are you?” she said more calmly.

“I’m good, too,” Emily said, “Listen, I’m really glad you called. I mean, I didn’t even know you were at Yale. But, uh, yeah, I’d love to see you. I’d love to catch up. It’s-It’s really been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it has,” said Fiona.

“Uh, are you free Thursday?” Emily asked.

“Thursday’s good.”

“Great! So, dinner? How about Heirloom at 7?”

“Sure, looking forward to it.”

“It really is so nice to hear from you, Fiona,” Emily said earnestly. Before Fiona could gather her thoughts to respond, Emily continued, “So, see you Thursday. Bye.”

_Dinner,_ Fiona thought as she hung up the phone. _Not lunch, not coffee, not one of those usual friend things. Dinner._ But no, she shook her head, it definitely wasn’t a date.

Thursday came, and Fiona found herself full of nerves as she got ready. _It’s not a date,_ she reminded herself again as she rummaged through her closet trying to find the perfect outfit for her dinner with Emily. Still, she wanted to look her best, and anyway, Emily had suggested a pretty nice restaurant. She opted for a crisp white blouse and a pair of flattering charcoal gray pants, and dressed it up with her best necklace and earrings. She stopped by the mirror on the way out to perfect her hair and makeup and assess her appearance. She definitely looked good, but not too dressed up for something that, as she kept reminding herself, was definitely not a date. Satisfied, she turned off the light and left for the restaurant.

 _It’s not a date,_ she reminded herself when she finally saw Emily Prentiss for the first time since high school. The years had been good to Emily. The lanky seventeen-year-old with the goth streak and the toothy smile who had stolen Fiona’s heart way back when had grown up into a stunningly gorgeous woman. She was fit and slender, tough but feminine, with the same glossy black hair and expressive brown eyes that still gave Fiona butterflies in her stomach.

 _It’s not a date,_ she reminded herself as she glanced over Emily’s tight, low-cut red sweater, black miniskirt, perfectly curled hair, and dramatic red lipstick.

 _It’s not a date,_ she reminded herself when Emily said, “Wow, you look amazing, Fiona.”

They went into the restaurant and sat at a table next to a window. The conversation flowed easily as Emily and Fiona reminisced about their time in Italy and caught each other up on their lives since then. Fiona couldn’t take her eyes off of Emily; she hung on every word she said and felt a rush of warmth every time she smiled or laughed.

 _It’s not a date,_ she reminded herself when Emily laughed just a little too hard at a barely-funny joke Fiona made.

 _It’s not a date,_ she reminded herself when Emily playfully touched her arm and let her hand linger there a few extra seconds.

 _It’s not a date,_ she reminded herself when Emily cocked her head slightly and looked up at Fiona through her long eyelashes with a flirtatious smile.

They finished their meal and got the check, and Emily insisted on walking Fiona back to her dorm. She offered to pay for Fiona’s meal, too, but Fiona pushed back on that one.

 _It’s not a date,_ she reminded herself when Emily’s hand rested on the small of her back as she guided Fiona out of the restaurant.

 _It’s not a date,_ she reminded herself when Emily linked arms with her on the walk back to her dorm.

 _Oh, shit, I guess it_ is _a date,_ she thought, as Emily’s lips found hers in a sweet, tender kiss goodnight.

_Quantico, 2017_

Emily fidgeted nervously while Fiona processed everything Emily had told her about Spencer’s case. Eventually she asked, “So, what do you think?”

“I think your friend’s in serious trouble,” Fiona said, “I think there’s a lot of circumstantial evidence against him. I think for better or for worse, this trial’s going to be about what can be proven, not what actually happened.”

“Can you help him?” Emily asked.

Fiona shook her head. “I’m not sure I’m the right lawyer to represent him,” she said, “I think it might not be entirely appropriate, given…our history.”

“I get that, Fiona, but this is about Spencer, not about me,” Emily said, “Whatever happened between us, it-it doesn’t change the fact that Spencer’s going to need all the help he can get.”

_“Whatever happened between us,”_ Fiona thought to herself, _a hell of a lot happened between us._ “I can put you in touch with some of my colleagues,” she offered, “I’m sure you can find him a perfectly good defense attorney, preferably one who’s never seen you naked.”

“He doesn’t need ‘perfectly good,’ Fiona; he needs the best,” Emily pleaded, “He needs you.” Her eyes started to well up with tears.

“You really care about him, don’t you?” Fiona said softly.

“I do,” Emily whispered. Fiona gently placed her hand over Emily’s. Emily shuddered slightly at how electrifying Fiona’s touch still felt to her.

“Okay,” Fiona whispered, “I’ll do my best.”

“You’ll represent him?” Emily asked through tears.

“I’ll meet with him,” Fiona said, “But I won’t make any promises.”

_New Haven, 1994_

“You have to promise me something,” Emily said as she wrapped her arms around Fiona’s neck and moved to straddle her lap on the couch.

“Oh? What’s that?” Fiona asked, placing her hands firmly on Emily’s hips.

“Promise me that when we go to your parents’ house for Christmas, you won’t remind them about that time I accidentally started a fire in their garage?”

Fiona laughed. “I promise,” she said, “Sadly, though, I can make no guarantees about my sisters.” She pushed a lock of hair behind Emily’s ear.

“I’m serious, Fiona!” Emily said, “I want them to like me.”

“They do like you,” Fiona said, pulling Emily in closer, “They always have.”

“No they haven’t,” Emily said flatly with an exaggerated eye roll.

“Oh, come on, baby, what’s not to like?” Fiona cooed gently as she smiled up at her girlfriend. Emily leaned in closer and brought her lips to Fiona’s. Fiona felt her smile into the kiss as she slowly dragged her fingers up Emily’s spine. Fiona deepened the kiss and began running her fingers through Emily’s hair. She gently pushed her tongue against Emily’s lips and into her mouth, and Emily slowly began grinding her hips down into Fiona’s lap. When Emily broke the kiss, Fiona seized the opportunity to mash her lips into Emily’s collarbone and begin peppering her neck and upper chest with wet, passionate kisses. Emily threw her head back and sighed, and Fiona felt the sigh between her legs. Emily squealed when Fiona twisted them both around and threw Emily down onto the couch beneath her. She cupped Emily’s face gently and kissed her passionately. Emily raised one leg and nestled it at the apex of Fiona’s thighs, and Fiona sighed at the contact. Emily kissed Fiona again and slid her hands into the back pockets of Fiona’s jeans, and without breaking the kiss, they began to move against each other. Fiona caught Emily’s bottom lip between her teeth as she pulled away. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered in Emily’s ear before nipping gently at the lobe. Emily moved her hands up under Fiona’s shirt and began grazing her thumb over soft fabric covering a hardening nipple. Fiona moaned softly and crashed her lips back into Emily’s. She unzipped Emily’s pants and snaked one hand down to begin teasing her over her already damp underwear.

“Somebody’s ready for more,” Fiona husked. Emily responded with a quiet whine. “Should we take this into the bedroom?” Fiona asked between kisses. Emily nodded. Fiona stood up and offered Emily her hand. Once they were both standing, Fiona pulled Emily into another kiss.

“Will you promise me something else?” Emily asked as she led Fiona into her bedroom.

“Anything,” Fiona said.

“Promise me you’ll never forget how much I love you.”

Fiona looked into Emily’s big brown eyes and smiled. “I promise,” she said.

_Quantico, 2017_

Everyone was feeling dejected after Reid was denied bail. Fiona had told Emily it might be a longshot, but Emily really had thought Fiona could do it. Fiona had, too. Now, Emily watched Reid be led back to jail for God only knew how long. She watched the members of her team comfort each other. Her eyes met Fiona’s, and she felt the sting of tears. She couldn’t let the team see her cry, couldn’t let Spencer see her cry, and for the love of God couldn’t let Fiona see her cry. She stood up and hurried out of the courtroom. Once outside, she stopped to catch her breath and collect herself. Fiona found her there.

“Emily, I’m sorry,” she said.

Emily closed her eyes and shook her head. “None of this is your fault,” she said, “You’ve been great.”

“Thanks, but, still…”

“You did say it was kind of a longshot,” Emily cut in.

“I know I did,” Fiona said, “but…I really thought I could do this for you—for Reid,” she quickly corrected herself. Then, after a pause, “But also for you.”

Their eyes met. Emily’s face softened, and her mouth fell open slightly. They held each other’s gaze, and for a brief moment, it felt to both of them like they were back in Connecticut, like they were young and in love again. Fiona cleared her throat and looked away. The moment was gone.

“So now I make sure he gets protective custody, and we do our best to clear his name as quickly as possible,” Fiona said.

“Right,” Emily nodded. She wouldn’t admit it, but her heart sank at Fiona’s sudden all-business tone.

“This isn’t over yet, Em,” Fiona assured her. Emily got goosebumps at Fiona’s use of the nickname. “And believe me,” Fiona continued, “I won’t stop fighting until it is.”

_New Haven, 1996_

Fiona could see what was coming. She watched Emily grow restless. This was already the longest and most serious relationship either of them had ever been in, and no matter how many times Emily assured Fiona that she was happy and wanted their relationship to work, Fiona could feel the hollowness behind her words. They both knew that Emily might never be the type to settle down and live happily ever after in domestic bliss. Certainly she wasn’t _right now_ at the age of 25. The fact that she’d be off to the FBI academy in a few months didn’t help, either.

Fiona tried her best to focus on enjoying the time they spent together: the times Emily made her laugh so hard her stomach hurt, the times Emily blushed adorably at a spontaneous compliment, the times she surprised Fiona with little gifts for no particular reason except “I just wanted to see your face light up,” the times she came hard with Fiona’s name tumbling from her lips like a prayer, the times they looked into each other’s eyes with such love and tenderness that they both wished they could freeze time and stay in that moment forever. She wanted to cherish those moments and not think about the fact that they would inevitably end. She saw the signs, but she tried hard not to dwell on them. They bickered more now. Silences that might once have felt comfortable and safe and easy now felt full of the words neither of them wanted to say.

“I don’t want to argue about this right now; let’s just go to sleep,” Fiona said as they lay in bed together late one night.

“I’m not going to be able to sleep if you’re mad at me, babe,” Emily said.

“I’m not mad,” Fiona said, turning over onto her side and facing away from Emily, “I just think this’ll go better if we talk about it another time, okay?”

“Okay,” Emily said softly. She draped an arm across Fiona and nestled in closely against her back.

Fiona might not have been mad at her, but Emily still couldn’t sleep. A tear ran down her cheek as she watched her girlfriend drift off. There was no doubt in Emily’s mind that she loved Fiona with all her heart. She had never in her life loved anyone as much as she loved Fiona, and, although she didn’t know it yet, she never would. She only wished—Oh, god, did she wish! —that love alone were enough.

Fiona could see the breakup coming, but it still hit her like a freight train when it happened.

_Quantico, 2017_

“I thought you’d be happier about the charges being dropped,” Fiona said as she wrestled the cork out of the bottle of wine in front of her. Emily had bought her the wine to thank her for helping Reid, and in a moment of…something—impulsiveness? Vulnerability? Loneliness, maybe? —she’d invited Fiona over to her apartment to share it.

“I am happy,” Emily said.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Fiona replied, pouring the wine into two glasses.

“Look, it’s not—I’m just…” Emily sighed, “I really couldn’t be happier that Reid’s out. You, uh, you really did a great job, Fiona; thank you…again…”

“But…?” Fiona prompted, handing Emily a glass.

“But something else has happened, and clearly this whole thing’s not over yet. I’m worried it’s just getting started. I have this sinking feeling it’s only going to get worse,” Emily said.

Fiona sipped her wine. “You want to talk about it?”

Emily shook her head. “Not really. But thanks. I’m fine; I promise.”

“Well, I can tell from the state of your fingernails that _that’s_ a lie,” Fiona said with a smirk. She slid closer to Emily. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk? You usually feel better after you vent to someone.”

Emily looked up at Fiona. “You still know me so well, don’t you?” she said with a sad smile.

“Do I?” Fiona asked, “I know who you used to be, but that was 20 years ago.”

“Hmmm,” Emily hummed in agreement, “A lot’s changed in 20 years.”

“You’ve lived a life,” Fiona said.

“So have you,” Emily replied.

Fiona shrugged. “We made our choices.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I made the right ones,” Emily sighed. She looked down at the carpet and blinked back tears.

“You wouldn’t be unit chief of the BAU if you hadn’t,” Fiona said, forcing herself to sound cheerful.

“I never stopped loving you,” Emily said softly. She looked up at Fiona. Their eyes met, followed soon after by their lips. Emily moaned softly into the kiss as both women reveled in the feeling of familiarity. Fiona’s tongue slid into Emily’s mouth like it was returning home after a long journey. Emily’s hands melded into Fiona’s back like they’d never been apart. The kiss felt so wonderfully comfortable and familiar, but it was different, too. They were older now, more mature. They knew what they wanted from life. Knew that what they wanted more than anything was each other. They both knew that this time would be different. This time, they wouldn’t let each other go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original ending was much more angsty, but after everything Emily’s been through, I think she deserves a happy ending with Fiona.


	6. Hello Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This pairing intrigues me because Emily and Diana have so much in common: They’re both gay (Emily Prentiss is totally a lesbian, shut up) daughters of diplomats who ended up in the FBI. I like to think their paths would’ve crossed at some point. Emily Prentiss/Diana Barrigan (Criminal Minds, White Collar), rated E.

They’d danced around each other their whole lives. Emily Prentiss and Diana Barrigan, both born on the exact same date in the same D.C. hospital to parents who were diplomats. They flitted in and out of each other’s lives from the time they were toddlers, with their respective parents’ postings taking them both all over the globe and finding them on more than one occasion living in the same city. Sometimes they went to the same school, and sometimes they didn’t. When they did, they competed fiercely to be top of the class. When they didn’t, they mostly just went about their separate lives, seeing each other occasionally at State Department functions. They weren’t exactly _friends_ —not close friends, anyway. They liked each other fine, but mostly they just sort of…knew each other.

They’d gone off to college and grad school: Emily to Georgetown and then Yale; Diana to Yale and then Georgetown. They’d even come out within a few months of each other, although they didn’t know it at the time. They hadn’t kept in touch, so neither woman had any idea that they’d submitted their applications to the FBI academy on the exact same date. Running into each other at Quantico was a pleasant surprise. They were both a little nervous about the academy, and it was nice to see a familiar face. They’d enjoyed the typical catching up that old friends do when they haven’t seen each other in a while, and since they didn’t know anyone else, they’d stuck to each other as they navigated this new world of theirs.

Now their twenty-six-year tango had led to this: the two of them drinking together in a local gay bar, sitting impossibly close to each other, looking at each other hungrily, each waiting for the other to make a move. It was Emily who finally took the plunge. One hand rested on Diana’s knee while the other pulled her face in close. Stopping just millimeters from Diana’s lips, she whispered, “I’m going to kiss you now.” When Diana didn’t pull away, she closed the gap. Emily tasted like Chapstick and bourbon. Diana’s hands moved to Emily’s waist as her tongue slid into Emily’s mouth, and she could feel her whole body tingling as Emily’s hands roamed her body and Emily’s tongue sparred with hers. The bar was noisy, but she thought she heard Emily whimper softly. Emily pulled back from the kiss, gently tugging Diana’s bottom lip between her teeth and releasing it with a pop that sent shockwaves between both of their thighs. She moved her hand up Diana’s thigh and looked up at her through her eyelashes, her eyes dark with lust.

“Should we get out of here?” Diana asked. They both knew Emily’s apartment was only a few blocks away. Diana had been over a few times already. Emily bit her lower lip and nodded. Diana smiled seductively. She snaked a hand around and gently placed her fingers on the back of Emily’s neck, bringing her in for another kiss. They both got up and went to close out their tabs, then Emily extended her hand to Diana. Diana took it and laced their fingers together, and they set off for Emily’s apartment.

Diana grabbed Emily’s hips and planted a kiss on the back of her neck as Emily fumbled with her keys. The door swung open, and Diana pushed them both inside. Emily turned around to face Diana and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. Diana reached up and tangled her fingers in Emily’s silky black hair. Emily reached down and cupped Diana’s ass as she moved one of her own legs between Diana’s thighs. Eventually Emily broke the kiss and stepped back slightly, and, still keeping her eyes fixed on Diana, began guiding her in the direction of her bedroom, nearly tripping over her roommate’s cat on the way.

Seeing the cat prompted Diana to ask, “Is Melissa around?” She wasn’t sure if Emily was out to her roommate.

“No,” Emily said, snaking a hand around the back of Diana’s neck and pressing their foreheads together as she continued to guide them both into the bedroom, “She’s gone all weekend.”

“Good,” Diana said with a smile as she closed Emily’s bedroom door behind them. Emily settled her arms around Diana’s neck and brought their lips together again. Diana’s hands found Emily’s waist and started fiddling with her belt buckle. Her tongue explored the contours of Emily’s mouth while her hands pulled the lovely brunette’s unbuckled belt through the loops and away from her waist and tugged the hem of her blouse up and out of the waistband of her pants as they both kicked off their shoes and socks. She undid the buttons on Emily’s blouse one by one and slid her hands around Emily’s waist under her open shirt. Emily hummed her satisfaction into Diana’s mouth as she unzipped Diana’s pants and pushed them past her hips and down to the floor before shrugging her own shirt off the rest of the way. She pulled back from the kiss to lift Diana’s sweater up over her head and toss it onto the floor behind her, and then took off her own jeans. They were both stripped down to their bras and underwear—Diana in a plunging teal bra and lacy black boyshorts; Emily in a delicate, pale pink cotton matching set—and they kissed each other with a desperate hunger.

“I want to see all of you,” Diana whispered as she reached around to unclasp Emily’s bra. Emily shimmied out of it and bent down to pull her underwear down over her long, slender legs. She stood up straight, and Diana took a small step back to look at her. “My god, you’re stunning,” she murmured as her eyes drank in the sight of Emily’s naked body. Emily stepped in to close the distance between them, grabbing Diana by the hips and catching her mouth in a searing, passionate kiss. Diana reached up to palm Emily’s breasts as Emily gently pushed her in the direction of the bed. Diana felt the mattress hit the backs of her legs, and she sank down onto it. She looked up at Emily, who straddled her lap and rested her forearms on Diana’s shoulders, craning her long, graceful neck down for another kiss. With Emily’s underwear gone, Diana could feel that she was getting wet. She buried her face in Emily’s chest and heard her sigh as she began kissing alabaster breasts. Soon Diana felt her own bra being unhooked. She pulled back slightly to take it off all the way and toss it to the side. Emily’s breath hitched at the sight of Diana’s bare chest.

“Has anyone ever told you you have perfect tits?” She asked, not waiting for a response before she crashed her lips back into Diana’s. She could feel Diana smiling into the kiss as she gently kneaded Diana’s smooth, pert breasts. Without letting go of Diana’s lips, she gently pushed her to lie back on the bed. Diana nestled herself into the pillows as Emily sat back beside her and slowly dragged her index finger down the valley between her breasts. “You’re so beautiful, Diana,” she murmured before leaning down to kiss Diana’s neck. She continued kissing and licking and sucking at Diana’s neck as her hand grazed down the length of Diana’s fit, muscular body, relishing the feeling of Diana’s soft skin under her fingertips. She paused when she reached the waistband of Diana’s underwear. Looking up into Diana’s sparkling brown eyes, she silently sought approval before slipping her hand down under the fabric. Diana sighed happily as Emily’s fingers reached her most intimate part. Emily slid her fingers through Diana’s hot, wet folds, taking the time to warm her up and learn every inch of her before moving up to her waiting clit. Returning her lips to Diana’s collarbone, she drew slow, lazy circles over the tender pearl as Diana began to writhe beneath her.

“More,” Diana husked, “Faster.” Emily obeyed, and was rewarded with a soft, low, sexy groan from Diana. She kept up her rhythm on Diana’s clit while her other hand found a still heaving breast. She pinched at the taut nipple, causing a long, high-pitched whine to escape from Diana’s mouth.

“Oh, god, baby, you sound so good,” Emily groaned into Diana’s ear. Diana exhaled sharply, and when Emily felt the hot breath on her skin, she was filled with an overwhelming desire to make Diana come completely undone. She kissed a trail of wet, sloppy kisses down Diana’s body, stopping to lavish some extra attention on those perfect tits before continuing on down to her navel. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of Diana’s soaking wet underwear and tugged them down off her hips. Diana kicked her legs to free herself of the garment before spreading herself open to allow Emily between her knees. She lay back in anticipation. She was breathing heavily and so, so wet, but _fuck_ if Emily wasn’t taking her sweet time.

Emily slowly trailed her fingers up a perfectly toned calf. She dipped down and planted a kiss on the inside of Diana’s thigh before glancing back up at the beautiful naked woman laid out before her. Finally she settled herself between Diana’s trembling legs and set to work making her unravel. She started off gently, languidly dragging her tongue up and down the length of Diana’s pussy, exploring all her folds and crevices. Satisfied with her exploration, she shifted her attention upward to suckle at Diana’s clit. A string of soft moans and breathy expletives tumbled from Diana’s lips, and Emily felt herself grow wetter and wetter with each one. Diana was close; Emily could feel it. She slid two fingers into Diana’s pussy and fucked her slow and deep, stroking her g-spot with each thrust.

“Oh, Emily!” Diana practically screamed as her body shook and her muscles clenched around Emily’s fingers. Emily felt her own arousal building. She moaned against Diana’s pussy, sending an electric jolt through Diana’s body, lifting her back up off the mattress as her orgasm ripped through her body and she saw stars. When she finally regained her bearings, Emily was lying beside her, propped up on one elbow and looking down at her lovingly.

“You’re fucking incredible, Diana Barrigan,” she said and leaned down to give Diana a tender kiss. Diana tasted herself on Emily’s lips. It was heady and erotic, and Diana took the opportunity to deepen the kiss and flip Emily onto her back. She was already flushed and ready, her pale skin glowing a tantalizing pink in anticipation of what Diana was about to do. Diana hovered over Emily’s body. She crashed her lips into Emily’s neck and sank one thigh down against Emily’s drenched pussy. Emily closed her eyes, bucked her hips, and whimpered as she ground herself against Diana’s leg.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Diana whispered. Diana moved off of Emily and shuffled down the bed. Emily whined at the initial loss of contact, but smiled when Diana firmly placed a hand on each knee and gently pushed them apart. Settling herself between Emily’s thighs, Diana looked up hungrily with a sly smile. Emily’s eyes were wide, and her chest was heaving, and Diana thought to herself that she’d never seen anything more beautiful in her entire life. She slid a finger through soaking folds. Emily was so wet, so ready; Diana just wanted to devour her. She dipped her head down and began lapping up Emily’s juices like a kitten with a bowl of milk as Emily writhed in pleasure above her.

“Oh, god, Diana, fuck me, please,” she whined. Diana needed no further instruction. She slid two fingers deep, deep into Emily, who responded with a guttural moan. She began thrusting in and out while she circled Emily’s clit with the tip of her tongue. Emily was already close, and it didn’t take her long to fall apart completely under Diana’s nimble tongue and fingers. One final stroke of her g-spot was all she needed, and she came with a sharp hiss. Diana pulled her mouth away and wiped her chin, but left her fingers in place as she slid up the bed until she was face to face with a hazy, smiling Emily. She gave Emily a moment to catch her breath, then leaned in to kiss her as she slowly removed her fingers. Emily was still riding the high of her first orgasm, and the feeling of Diana’s fingers sliding out of her combined with the taste of herself on Diana’s lips sent her careening over the edge a second time as she moaned loudly into Diana’s mouth.

They both lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling in comfortable, happy silence, which Diana eventually broke.

“I wonder what our parents would say.”

Emily erupted in a peal of laughter. “Were you planning on telling them?” she asked.

“God, no!” Diana laughed. Her face softened after a beat, and she met Emily’s eyes. “Not yet, anyway…”

Emily smiled. “I guess we’ll just have to see where this goes,” she said.

“I guess we will,” Diana replied, and gave Emily a sweet, chaste kiss. She nuzzled into Emily’s shoulder. “Okay if I spend the night?”

Emily chuckled and wrapped her arms around Diana, pulling her closer. “Yeah, I was kind of hoping you would.”


	7. Everything Happens for a Reason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After killing the man who shot the woman she loves, JJ finally works up the courage to tell Penelope how she feels. Takes place after S3E9, “Penelope.” Jennifer Jareau/Penelope Garcia (Criminal Minds), rated E.

JJ hadn’t even flinched. Jason Clark Battle, the man who shot Penelope, was dead, and JJ had killed him. She had to, of course, or he would have killed someone else, but the fact that she didn’t even hesitate to shoot him—well, that had surprised her a little. But this was the prick who almost snuffed out the light of JJ’s life, and every single cell in JJ’s body despised him for it. He didn’t deserve to live. The official story would be that she only shot him because she had to, but the truth was she wanted him dead.

She’d been on autopilot since then, unable to focus on anything but Penelope. She didn’t even remember getting in her car to drive over to Penelope’s apartment, but now here she was, knocking on the door, ready to throw caution to the wind and confess her love for the woman she nearly lost. Her pulse quickened when Penelope answered the door in her pajamas—a low-cut tank top revealing the perfect curve of her breasts, a fluffy pink robe wrapped around her deliciously curvy body, her hair loose and tumbling down in unruly blonde waves, and her skin fresh and glowing without any makeup.

“JJ,” she said with a smile, “Come to check on me?”

“Something like that,” JJ mumbled, looking shyly up at Penelope.

Penelope opened the door wider. “Come on in, babe.” Hearing the pet name made JJ lose all resolve. Tears started to well up in her eyes, and no sooner had the door closed behind her than she grabbed Penelope’s hand and pulled her close, gazing deep, deep into those gorgeous, bespectacled brown eyes.

“I love you, Penelope,” she blurted out, “I have for a long time. You are everything in the world to me, and when I thought I might lose you it felt like my heart had shattered into a million pieces.” She watched Penelope’s eyes widen and her mouth fall open slightly. “I don’t know if you love me back; I don’t expect you to, but after everything that’s happened, I just couldn’t let another day go by without telling you that you are the most incredible woman I have ever met, and I cherish every single second I get to spend with you.”

“JJ…” Penelope whispered. JJ looked down at the floor. She felt her face flush as blazing hot tears rolled down her cheeks. A well-manicured hand reached out and gently tilted her chin upward to meet Penelope’s soft lips in a passionate kiss. She wrapped her arms around Penelope and lost herself in the heady sensation of their tongues dancing with each other. Penelope moaned softly; JJ smelled like rosewater and vanilla, and it was so wonderfully intoxicating to have her this close. JJ untied Penelope’s robe and slid her hands under it, running them over the soft curves of Penelope’s body as she moved her mouth down to lavish kisses on Penelope’s neck.

“I do love you back,” Penelope sighed, “Some nights I dreamed about you kissing me like this.”

“Oh, Penelope, I want you so bad,” JJ groaned between kisses.

“I just got shot,” Penelope reminded her.

JJ looked up into her eyes. “I’ll be gentle,” she assured.

Penelope’s heart raced as JJ took her by the hand and led her into the bedroom. Once inside, JJ cupped her face and brought their lips together in a searing kiss. She caught Penelope’s gaze and flashed her a sexy grin as she pushed the robe off Penelope’s shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She pressed their foreheads together and moved her hands to Penelope’s waist to untie the drawstring on her pajama pants. She pushed the pants down over Penelope’s hips along with her underwear before slowly pulling the tank top up over Penelope’s torso. Penelope raised her arms as JJ pulled back to take the shirt off all the way and toss it onto the floor behind them. Penelope’s hands instinctively flew across her body to cover the angry red scar on her chest, but JJ pushed them away gently, and when she saw the love and affection in JJ’s sparkling blue eyes, her self-consciousness melted away.

“Lie down,” JJ instructed. Penelope lay on her back on the bed and propped herself up on her elbows as JJ undressed in front of her.

Standing naked in the soft light of Penelope’s bedroom lamp, JJ looked positively angelic. Penelope’s eyes widened as she took it all in: her fit, slender body and long, graceful limbs; her small, pert breasts above perfectly toned abs leading down to a patch of neatly trimmed blonde curls; her golden hair perfectly framing her sweet face, lips slightly parted and blue eyes fixed on Penelope.

“Jesus Christ, JJ, you’re magnificent,” Penelope murmured. JJ smiled as she climbed up onto the bed and straddled Penelope. She leaned down and kissed her deeply, and Penelope got goosebumps when she felt the ends of JJ’s hair tickle the sides of her breasts. She reached up and splayed her hands across JJ’s back.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” JJ whispered, “And now I’m finally going to make you come.”

She gently rocked her hips against Penelope and ran her hands over Penelope’s body, taking extra care to be gentle around her wound. Penelope sighed happily when JJ’s hands found her breasts. She dipped her head down and took a hardening nipple into her mouth, eliciting a soft whimper from the woman under her. Her hand grazed down the soft, pale skin of Penelope’s stomach until she reached her pussy. She looked up at Penelope with a cocked eyebrow and a wolfish grin as she slid her hand into the wetness she found there, enjoying the sight of Penelope’s eyes fluttering closed and her head falling back as her body responded to JJ’s touch. Penelope moaned as JJ’s nimble fingers massaged her, and whined when JJ suddenly pulled her hand away. JJ sat up straight and locked eyes with Penelope. She licked Penelope’s arousal off her fingers and moaned, causing Penelope’s jaw to drop.

“You taste incredible, baby,” JJ growled as she shuffled down the bed and pushed Penelope’s knees apart. She buried her face between Penelope’s legs and licked a stripe up her pussy, savoring the taste of her. She heard Penelope’s breath hitch, and felt fingernails dig into the side of her scalp. JJ closed her eyes and squeezed her own thighs together as she kept swirling her tongue over Penelope’s pussy. She was already so wet, and she thought she might just come from the sheer sound of Penelope’s pretty, breathy moans. She brought the tip of her tongue to Penelope’s clit, beginning a rhythm of short, fast flicks that made Penelope squirm with pleasure.

“Oh, god, JJ!” she cried out, “Oh, just like that! Oh, fuck, I’m gonna come!” JJ kept up her rhythm as Penelope gripped the sheets with one hand and JJ’s hair with the other. She arched her back and moaned as her orgasm washed over her. Penelope closed her eyes as her breathing slowed, and when she opened them, JJ was sitting back on her heels and smiling at her.

“Holy fuck, that was sexy,” JJ said.

Penelope sat up against the headboard a little. “Yeah?” she giggled, giving JJ a flirty smile.

“So sexy,” JJ husked. She licked her lips. “I mean,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper as she crawled across the bed to Penelope, “You would not _believe_ how wet I am right now.” Penelope sat up straighter as her eyes widened at JJ’s words. JJ knelt in front of Penelope with her legs spread apart and angled her lips in to catch Penelope’s in a searing kiss. Penelope slipped a hand down between JJ’s thighs. Her breath hitched; JJ wasn’t lying. JJ tossed her head back and groaned at the contact, and Penelope, one hand still teasing JJ’s pussy, took the opportunity to lean forward and pepper kisses across her open chest.

“Fuck,” JJ gasped. She closed her eyes and panted as Penelope started making circles over her clit. Her heart pounded in her ears, and her whole body felt like it was on fire. “I want your fingers inside me,” she whispered before crashing her lips into Penelope’s.

“Your wish is my command,” Penelope husked.

JJ felt two fingers slide into her and let out a low, guttural moan. Placing one hand on Penelope’s shoulder, she started rocking her hips back and forth, fucking herself on Penelope’s fingers. Penelope moved her thumb to graze against JJ’s clit as her fingers twisted inside her, stroking her g-spot. Her free hand found JJ’s breast and pinched and tugged at her nipple. JJ leaned in for another kiss, and Penelope bit down on JJ’s bottom lip, making her whimper. JJ was so close.

“I want you to come for me, Jennifer,” Penelope whispered in her ear. JJ closed her eyes. She pressed her forehead against Penelope’s and came with a long, high-pitched whine. Penelope pushed her to keep going, dragging out her orgasm. JJ felt a rush of warm fluid leave her body and cover Penelope’s hand. She blinked her eyes open and looked hazily at Penelope, who moved her hand from JJ’s breast to drag a knuckle tenderly along her cheek.

“Okay, now _that_ was sexy,” Penelope said with a smile.

“That’s never happened before,” JJ gasped, still catching her breath. Penelope raised her eyebrows. JJ smiled. “If that’s what you’re like in bed when you’ve just been shot,” she said, “I can’t wait to see what’s in store for me once you’re fully recovered!”


	8. Stress Relief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working at the BAU is a tough job. JJ and Elle just need to blow off some steam. Jennifer Jareau/Elle Greenaway (Criminal Minds), rated E.

“This doesn’t have to be a whole thing, does it?” Elle asked, putting her hands on JJ’s waist.

“What do you mean, ‘a whole thing?’” JJ asked, reaching up to fiddle with the collar of Elle’s blouse.

“I mean we’re not going to make a big deal out of it, not going to let it make things awkward or anything—We still have to work together,” Elle said.

JJ rolled her eyes. “It’s just sex, Elle. And after the day we’ve had, I know you need this as much as I do. There’s no reason it has to be anything more—I’m not looking for anything more.”

“Good,” Elle said before crashing her lips into JJ’s and sliding her tongue into the blonde woman’s mouth.

“I’m only doing this because I’ve had a shit day, you know,” Elle said as she shrugged out of her blazer.

“Me too,” JJ said as she kicked off her heels.

“I mean, you’re hot, but it’s not like I have feelings for you or anything,” Elle said, taking off her shoes and socks.

“Well, I don’t have feelings for you, either,” JJ shrugged.

“I’m not even a lesbian,” Elle insisted as she unbuttoned her blouse.

“Neither am I,” replied JJ as she unzipped her skirt.

They both shed the rest of their clothes. Elle turned around and laid her clothes down on an empty chair. Her eyes shot up to the mirror, where she caught JJ’s reflection checking out her ass. She turned her head and peered back over her shoulder.

“See something you like, Jareau?” she teased.

JJ laughed. “Just shut up and get over here,” she said.

Elle strode over and slid a hand around the back of JJ’s head, bringing the blonde’s lips to hers in a bruising kiss. JJ wrapped her arms around Elle’s waist and reached down to cup her ass. Elle’s free hand palmed JJ’s breast while the other twisted in her hair, and she turned the two of them around and guided JJ to the bed. Elle pushed JJ down onto the mattress with a playful shove, and JJ yelped in surprise. Elle just chuckled and climbed on top of her, sinking one leg in between JJ’s. JJ sighed and slid her hands up Elle’s back. She bucked her hips against Elle’s thigh as Elle moved on top of her. She stifled a smirk when she started to feel Elle getting wet against her leg, although she knew she was getting just as wet, too. Elle dipped her head down and began kissing and sucking on JJ’s neck. JJ tangled her fingers in Elle’s chestnut hair.

“Hey! No marks,” she admonished when she felt Elle’s teeth on her collarbone.

“Mmmm, can’t give a press conference with a giant hickey, now, can you?” Elle joked.

“I mean it,” JJ laughed as she flipped them both over. She sat up straight and straddled Elle’s stomach. “If you can’t behave yourself, I’ll stop this right now,” she said with a sexy grin.

Elle raised one eyebrow. “You’re the one who started it.” She grabbed JJ’s legs and ran her fingers along the backs of her thighs. “But I promise I’ll be good.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” JJ husked, leaning down to catch Elle’s lips in a searing kiss. She brought her hands to Elle’s breasts and grazed her thumbs over hardening nipples. Elle shuddered slightly. JJ kissed her way down Elle’s neck and across her collarbone, then took one of Elle’s nipples into her mouth. She nipped and sucked at it as Elle ground her hips against JJ’s thigh, moaning softly.

“Fuck, JJ, I’m so wet,” Elle gasped.

“I know,” JJ purred. She peppered kisses down Elle’s stomach before settling herself between the brunette’s thighs. Elle panted as JJ’s fingers lightly teased at her pussy before dipping her head down and slowly dragging her tongue along her folds. She drew lazy zigzags up and down with her tongue before taking Elle’s clit into her mouth and sucking. Elle arched her back and moaned loudly. JJ snaked a hand up to Elle’s breast and drew circles over the nipple with her thumb. Elle’s whole body trembled as she came.

“Well, I—that…I mean, fuck,” she said softly as she came down.

“Elle Greenaway, ever the poet,” JJ teased as she gently tucked a lock of hair behind Elle’s ear. Elle laughed and pushed JJ down onto her back.

“Okay then, Shakespeare, let’s see how you do.” She slid her tongue into JJ’s mouth and one hand down the length of her torso, stopping just inches away from the blonde’s waiting pussy. She pulled back to lock eyes with JJ, whose sparkling baby blues had gone black with lust. She slid her hand down and found the blonde woman hot and slick. She dragged her fingers through slowly, relishing the feeling of JJ’s arousal. JJ whimpered impatiently as Elle’s fingers ghosted over her clit, and a wicked, teasing grin spread across the brunette’s face.

“Damn, JJ, do you always get this wet?” Elle murmured, “Or am I just special?”

JJ groaned. “Elle, I swear to God, if you don’t fuck me right now—”

Elle slammed two fingers into JJ’s pussy. She pumped them in and out, hearing JJ release a soft, breathy moan with each stroke of her g-spot. Elle curled her hand so her palm would grind against JJ’s clit, and she bent her head down and licked and sucked at JJ’s breasts as her fingers continued their rhythmic thrusts inside her. JJ arched her back into Elle’s mouth and let out a guttural moan as her orgasm hit. She grabbed Elle’s hair and gently pulled her up for a slow, languid kiss as she came down from her high. They smiled at each other.

“Well this was fun,” Elle said.

JJ giggled. “Yeah, it was,” she agreed.

Elle stood up and walked over to the chair that held her clothes.

“Going back to your room already?” JJ remarked.

“I don’t cuddle,” Elle sneered, picking up her clothes.

“Neither do I,” JJ shot back.

“Liar,” Elle said with a smirk, “I can totally see you being a cuddler. And remember, I _am_ a highly skilled profiler.”

JJ rolled her eyes and snorted. “I just meant you could take a shower here or something. You know, if you wanted.”

Elle started putting her clothes back on. “Nah, that’s okay; I’ve got a shower in my own room.”

JJ yawned and stretched her arms over her head. “Well, I don’t know about you,” she said, “But I am feeling a lot less tense.”

Elle finished dressing. “Yeah, this was good,” she said with a smile. She walked over to the bed and bent down to give JJ a quick kiss. “See you tomorrow, JJ,” she said.

“Sleep tight, Elle,” JJ replied.

Elle draped her blazer over one shoulder and made her way to the door. JJ smiled slightly as she watched her leave. Neither one of them had any illusions about what this was. It was just sex, nothing more, nothing less. It might happen again, or it might not. Either way, there would be no complications. They’d keep their promise; they’d go to work tomorrow, and it wouldn’t be awkward. Tonight, though, they’d both sleep better than they had in weeks.


	9. The Music Box

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reimagining of S2E9, “Point Blank,” or how Alex and Neal should have stolen the music box from Diana. For the purposes of this fic (and likely any future Diana fics), there is no Christie. Also, the safe is in Diana’s living room, not her bedroom. Diana Barrigan/Alex Hunter (White Collar), rated M.

There was that two-finger point-and-beckon. Burke did it; Hughes did it; Bancroft did it. Burke had once joked that they taught it at Quantico. It wasn’t uncommon for Peter to summon Diana like that, but the look on his face as he pointed at her today told her something big was about to happen.

She stepped into Peter’s office, closing the door behind her. “You wanted to see me, boss?” she said.

Peter pulled out a battered case file and dropped it on his desk in front of her. “Alex Hunter is back in town,” he said.

“Alex Hunter?” Diana asked, “Caffrey’s fence friend? Didn’t we send her to Italy for her own protection?”

“We did,” Peter nodded, “And I don’t know why she’s back, but I’m betting Neal and the music box have something to do with it.”

“So how do we play this?” she asked.

“For now, we wait. Officially, Alex Hunter is still in Italy. Unofficially, I’d like you to keep a close eye on her,” he said.

“You got it, boss,” she replied.

She’d definitely been given worse assignments than following a gorgeous woman around Manhattan all day. The hardest part would be walking the line between surveilling Alex and admiring her. Diana was sitting in her parked car outside one of Alex’ haunts one evening, drinking a cup of coffee, when a text from Burke came in. It was about Fowler. Diana read it with a pensive scowl and started typing out her reply when she heard a sudden noise.

“Shit!” she cursed when a rapping on her car window startled her and nearly made her spill her coffee; and “Shit!” she cursed again when she turned and saw Alex Hunter leaning against the car and bending down to look at her with a sly smile. She rolled the window down.

“I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced,” Alex said, extending her right hand into the car, “I’m Alex Hunter.”

Diana reluctantly reached over and shook her hand. “Diana Barrigan.”

“You work for Peter Burke, don’t you?” Alex said.

“I do,” Diana admitted.

“And he told you to watch me,” Alex said.

“I’m just here drinking my coffee,” Diana replied.

“He told you to watch me,” Alex repeated.

Diana sighed and put her coffee back in the cupholder.

“Well, if I have to have a shadow, at least I’m glad I’ve got such a pretty one,” Alex said, “See you around, Diana.” She walked away, and the way Diana watched her leave was not exactly standard surveillance practice.

Later that night, Neal and Alex were in his apartment, plotting their theft of the music box from Diana’s safe. Alex sipped her Malbec as she listened to Neal describe what it would take to break in and crack the safe.

“What about your anklet?” she asked.

“Taken care of,” Neal said with a smile as he walked across the room to the bookcase, “I stole the key from a US Marshal.” He opened a book and pulled out the key, then picked up June’s dog off the couch.

“Seriously? This is your plan?” Alex scoffed, “You’re going to put your tracking anklet on your landlady’s Pug.”

“It’s perfect,” Neal said, “If I just leave it in one place, say, on the table, Peter’ll know something’s up. Nobody stays at their dining table that long. But Bugsy here? He’ll move around the loft, maybe take a nap on the couch. Peter won’t notice a thing.”

“There’s still the matter of breaking into a Fed’s apartment and cracking her private safe without her noticing,” Alex reminded him, “Any idea how you’re going to manage that?”

“One thing at a time,” he said, putting Bugsy back down and scratching him behind the ears, “I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

Alex chuckled. “I’m sure you will.”

“How’s it coming with solving the code?” Neal asked.

“Nothing to report,” Alex sighed.

“Don’t you have contacts in town who are good at this sort of thing?” he asked.

“I’m not sure how much I can do with Burke’s pet lesbian watching my every move,” she said.

Neal looked up and smiled deviously. “Maybe we can use that to our advantage.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Tell me this isn’t going where I think it’s going.”

“What if we didn’t have to break into Diana’s apartment? What if she _let_ you in?” Neal said excitedly, “What if we didn’t have to worry about her noticing because we knew she’d be distracted?”

“Yep, that’s exactly where I thought it was going,” Alex said.

“It could work,” Neal insisted.

“She is very hot…” Alex shrugged.

“And you’re just her type,” Neal said.

“Tracking anklet on a dog, and I seduce Barrigan,” Alex mused, “Not your most elegant plan, Neal, but what the hell, let’s give it a go.”

The next night, Diana followed Alex to a bar. It was a bar she’d been to a hundred times before, but she wouldn’t’ve pegged Alex as the type to frequent a lesbian bar. Thankfully, the only person she knew was the bartender, Grace.

“Evening, Di,” Grace said, “Rum and Coke?”

“Just Coke tonight,” Diana shook her head, “I’m on the job.” She looked around and spotted Alex Hunter. She sipped her Coke and tried her best to stay focused on her assignment as she watched Alex flirt with a leggy redhead with a nose ring.

“Ooh, got a little crush there?” Grace teased.

Diana turned back to the bar and laughed. “Not exactly,” she said. She kept chatting with Grace, looking over periodically to make sure Alex hadn’t left. She was laughing at something Grace said when she heard a voice behind her.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here,” Alex said, sinking into the chair next to Diana.

Diana shook her head. “I’m a little surprised to see you here, though.”

Alex smirked, “And here I thought the Feds knew everything about me.” She turned to the bartender and ordered herself a martini. “And whatever she’s drinking,” she said, nodding towards Diana, “On my tab.” She turned back to Diana and smiled flirtatiously.

Diana chuckled. “What about your ginger friend?” she asked.

Alex clicked her tongue. “Struck out.”

Diana raised an eyebrow. “Really?” she said, “I can’t imagine you striking out with anybody.”

Alex leaned in and looked up at Diana through her eyelashes. “What about you?”

“Oh, I strike out all the time,” Diana laughed.

Alex brushed her fingers against Diana’s. “I mean, would I strike out with you?”

Diana let her mouth fall open slightly, surprised at Alex’ boldness. Alex cocked her head and looked at Diana with a sexy smile. Diana tried her best to remember that she was on the job.

She cleared her throat. “Well I’m currently assigned to watch you, so…”

Alex shifted in even closer, “And do you like what you see?” she asked.

“I, uh, I’ve got to admit I do,” Diana replied. She could feel the blood rushing to her head. She locked eyes with Alex and smiled shyly.

Their lips met, hesitantly at first, but Alex soon deepened the kiss. Diana reached up and tangled her fingers in Alex’ hair, and she briefly forgot where she was and why. She was about to slide her tongue into Alex’ mouth when she remembered her better judgment and pulled away from the kiss.

“Oh, this is such a bad idea,” she said, shaking her head, “This is absolutely going to come back to bite me in the ass, isn’t it?”

“I mean, if that’s what you’re into…” Alex teased.

Diana rolled her eyes and snorted. “Come on Alex, as much as I’d like to, we both know this can’t happen. I’m an FBI agent; I can’t sleep with a known fence.”

“ _Alleged_ fence,” Alex retorted playfully. She brushed her leg against Diana’s. “Come on, Diana,” she husked, her voice barely above a whisper, “Don’t you ever want to shed the Fed and have some fun?”

“Peter did tell me to keep a close eye on you…” Diana said.

Alex leaned in close and ran her fingers along Diana’s arm. “Well then I think you owe it to Peter to get as close as possible.”

Back at her apartment, Diana pushed aside her remaining doubts about sleeping with Alex and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. “Fuck it, I guess we’re really doing this,” she said with a smile.

“I guess we are,” Alex said, returning Diana’s smile.

Diana went into her kitchen to pull out a bottle of wine and two glasses. While her back was turned, Alex sneakily unlocked the window by the fire escape and cracked it open ever so slightly. She turned around to greet Diana with a smile as she emerged from the kitchen carrying two wine glasses.

“I’m sure my wine collection can’t compare to Neal’s,” Diana said, “But I do keep a couple of nice reds for special occasions and…special women.” Alex took one of the glasses and looked coyly at Diana before sipping the lush Pauillac. They sat on Diana’s couch, and Alex lightly dragged her fingers over Diana’s leg as they drank their wine and continued flirting. Diana put her wine glass down on the coffee table. She slipped her hand around the back of Alex’ head and pulled her in for a deep, blazing kiss, tasting the fine wine on Alex’ tongue. Alex slid a hand up to palm Diana’s breast as she moaned softly into the kiss. She moved her mouth down to Diana’s neck and began kissing and sucking along her jaw. Diana tilted her head back and plunged her fingers into Alex’ hair.

“Should we take this into the bedroom?” she whispered.

Alex locked eyes with her. “God, yes.”

Diana picked up the empty wine glasses. “Let me just get these back into the kitchen.”

As soon as Diana had disappeared into the kitchen, Alex hopped up off the couch and pulled a compact mirror out of her purse. She tilted it at the window, flashing the signal to Neal that the coast would soon be clear. She returned the compact to her purse and unzipped her dress before Diana came back.

When Diana came back from the kitchen, Alex was standing in front of her wearing only her royal blue lace bra and underwear. Diana grinned and pulled Alex in for a kiss before taking her by the hand and leading her into the bedroom.

Neal had climbed up onto the fire escape when he saw Alex’ signal, but now he waited a little longer until he was sure he could slip into the apartment unnoticed. He gave Alex some time to get it on with Diana before lifting the window open and carefully, quietly climbing through. He looked around Diana’s living room before finding the safe behind a Keith Haring print.

“Oh, god, Alex!” he heard Diana moan, and he couldn’t help smiling to himself. _Focus, Caffrey,_ he thought as he set to work cracking the safe. He could tell from the sounds coming from the bedroom that Diana was nearing her climax, so he had to work quickly. Diana’s first orgasm masked the sound of the safe door opening, and her second masked the sound of it closing, as Neal skillfully cracked the safe and swiped the music box. He heard a whine he recognized as Alex’ as he slipped back out onto the fire escape and closed the window behind him.

“I’m gonna guess you’re not the type to spend the night,” Diana said to Alex after their second round in bed.

Alex smirked. “Good guess.”

“Probably for the best,” Diana shrugged.

Alex went into the living room to fetch her dress and heels, making sure to lock the window while she was there. She returned to the bedroom and dressed quickly, straightening her dress and smoothing her hair in Diana’s mirror. She walked over to the bed and bent down to give Diana a final kiss.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Diana,” she said.

“And the day after that,” Diana replied with a smile.

Alex left Diana’s apartment building and found Neal waiting for her outside. He held up the music box for her. She shook her head at him and smiled; they’d actually stolen a priceless artifact from an FBI agent’s apartment. Alex had to admit, this was probably the most fun she’d had on a con in a long, long time.


	10. Six Hours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emily’s got a plane to catch, but first, she has some unfinished business to take care of with Alex Blake. Set after S9E14, “200.” Emily Prentiss/Alex Blake (Criminal Minds), rated T.

“Emily, how much longer do we have you?” Hotch asked.

Emily looked at her watch. “Umm, six hours,” she said. She locked eyes with Alex.

_Six hours,_ they both thought simultaneously. _The things I could do to her in six hours…_

They both wanted each other, and they both had a pretty good idea of where the night would lead, but neither one was ready to make a move just yet. Instead they spent the next forty-five minutes trading flirtatious hints back and forth, like a tennis match of sexual tension. First, Emily strategically leaned over as she reached across the table, giving Alex a prime view of her cleavage. Then, Alex stared straight into Emily’s eyes as she licked salt from a pretzel off her finger. Emily upped the ante by “accidentally” brushing her foot against Alex’ calf. Alex responded by leaning in and brushing a possibly-nonexistent crumb off Emily’s sweater, ghosting her fingers just inches away from Emily’s breast.

Sitting at the bar a little later, away from the rest of the team, they could flirt more openly with each other. “I still can’t believe I’m finally getting to meet _the_ Emily Prentiss, Interpol agent extraordinaire,” Alex said.

“Hmm,” Emily raised an eyebrow, “Tell me, do I live up to the hype?”

Alex licked her lips and cocked her head at Emily. “And then some.”

“And you, Dr. Blake,” Emily said, looking at Alex through her eyelashes and slowly dragging her index finger over the rim of her glass, “Forensic linguistics at Georgetown? That’s very impressive. You’re still lecturing?”

“When I can,” Alex said with a shrug and a smile, “My dance card’s a little full these days, but I make time for the things that make me happy.” She sipped her beer.

Emily leaned in closer. “Is it true you _actually_ beat Spencer at Scrabble?” she asked playfully.

Alex tossed her head back and laughed, and Emily noted that she had a really great laugh. “Just barely,” Alex nodded, “But yes, I did.”

Still feeling the warm, pleasant, tingling feeling from Alex’ laugh, Emily decided to take a risk. “Well, well, well,” she said seductively, with a wolfish grin spreading across her face, “Seems like you’re quite the cunning linguist.”

Alex blinked and let her mouth fall open. She looked Emily up and down hungrily before saying, “You’ve got four and a half hours left; care to find out?”

Emily smiled even wider and placed a hand on Alex’ thigh. She stood and tucked a lock of hair behind Alex’ ear before going to the other end of the bar to close out both their tabs. No sooner had she finished signing the bill than Alex came up behind her. One hand snaked around Emily’s waist while the other gently brushed her hair away.

“Let’s get out of here,” Alex said in a low growl.

Emily turned to wrap her arms around Alex’ neck and whisper in her ear, “Lead the way.”


	11. Long Distance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still exploring this pairing. Here’s some established relationship, Emily/Diana phone sex. That’s it; that’s the whole plot. Again, no Christie. Emily Prentiss/Diana Barrigan (Criminal Minds, White Collar), rated E, obviously.

Emily trudged up the stairs to her apartment. She leaned her shoulder into the front door and pushed it open, then stepped inside with a heavy sigh. She flipped on the lights and dropped her ready bag on the floor with a thud. She’d had a hell of a day and just wanted to relax and feel good, but she found her silent, empty apartment less than comforting. She felt a hollow ache in the pit of her stomach as she made her way into the bathroom and turned on the shower, and it told her that tonight, she would need something more than her usual solitary post-case relaxation routine. She finished her shower, threw on some pajamas, and flopped down on her bed. She stared blankly up at the ceiling for a few seconds before reaching over for her phone to check the time: 7:15. Diana would probably be home by now; unlike Emily, she frequently got home at a reasonable hour. She might be cooking dinner right now, Emily thought. She smiled softly as she pictured Diana puttering about her kitchen, gently swaying to the Latin music she liked to play when she cooked. She was still picturing her girlfriend in a moment of domestic contentment when she pressed Call and listened to the ringing as she waited for Diana to answer.

“Hey, beautiful,” Diana said, and Emily felt her body start to relax at the sound of her girlfriend’s voice.

“Hey,” Emily said happily as the tension left her body, “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“I’ve been thinking about you, too,” Diana smiled, “How was South Dakota?”

Emily groaned. “Ugh, it was terrible,” she said, “But I don’t want to talk about work. What are you doing right now?”

“I’m just reading,” Diana said casually, “And wishing you were here. What are you doing?”

“Also wishing you were here,” Emily said flirtatiously.

Diana laughed softly. God, Emily loved Diana’s laugh. “Oh, if I were there right now I could rub your shoulders the way you like and make you forget all about your case and your terrible time in South Dakota,” she said.

“I want you to make me forget, Diana,” Emily said, her voice low and sexy.

Diana felt her stomach flip and her whole body tingle. She put her book down and stretched out on the couch. “Mmmm…I can do that,” she said. She heard Emily sigh into the phone, and she shuddered slightly with excitement. After almost a year of being in a long-distance relationship, Emily and Diana had found some ways to get creative with intimacy, but actually having phone sex was still pretty special and exciting for both of them.

“Are you naked?” Diana asked.

“I’m wearing pajamas,” Emily replied.

Diana bit her lip. “Silk?” she husked.

Emily giggled. “Sorry, no.”

“Take them off,” Diana instructed. She heard the bed creak quietly as Emily got up to undress. “Okay, now lie down and close your eyes.”

Emily lay back on the bed and exhaled slowly. She was already getting aroused from the anticipation and the sound of Diana’s voice.

“Play with your nipples,” Diana told her. Emily began circling her fingers over one of her nipples, feeling it harden under her touch. Her breath hitched.

“That feel good?” Diana asked. She heard Emily hum her assent. “That’s me touching you, Emily,” she said, “Those are my hands making you feel good.”

Emily moved her hand to her other breast and began pinching and rolling her nipple the same way Diana usually did. She exhaled sharply into the phone, sending shivers down Diana’s spine.

“Are you getting wet?” Diana asked.

“So wet,” Emily replied. Diana groaned softly, thinking about how tantalizingly wet Emily always got for her. She squeezed her thighs together as she felt her own arousal build.

“I want you to touch yourself,” Diana instructed, “Nice and slow.” Emily slid her hand down and began rubbing herself.

“Feel how wet you are?” Diana said in a low, sexy growl, “Your pussy feels so fucking good, baby.” Emily whimpered as she grazed over her clit with her index finger, and Diana couldn’t resist slipping her own hand down under the waistband of her pants.

“Now,” Diana said, “I want you to stick two fingers inside. I want you to fuck yourself.” Emily could tell from the breathiness in Diana’s voice that she was touching herself. She slid two fingers in and began a steady rhythm.

“Are you touching yourself?” Emily gasped, “Oh, god, Diana please tell me you’re touching yourself.”

“I’m touching myself,” Diana said.

“Tell me how,” Emily pleaded as she continued working her own fingers, “Tell me exactly what your fingers are doing.”

“I’m rubbing my clit,” Diana husked, “Counter-clockwise, like you always do for me.”

Emily let out a long, low moan. The thought of Diana touching herself had her right at the brink of orgasm.

“Oh, good girl, Em!” Diana cried out, “Keep going for me; you’re doing so good. I want to hear those pretty sounds you make.” She screwed her eyes shut and sped up her movement on her clit as she listened to Emily keening into the phone. She let the sounds of Emily’s orgasm take her so, so close to her own.

“Oh, fuck, Diana!” Emily whined. Diana pressed her fingers hard against her clit and let out a loud moan. Her own orgasm reached its peak just as Emily’s was winding down.

Diana was still catching her breath when she heard Emily say, “I bet you look really beautiful right now.”

She smiled. “I bet you do, too, sweetheart,” she replied. “I bet your skin is glowing and your hair’s all wild—you always look incredible when you come.” She paused and bit her lower lip. “Hey, I was thinking…I was thinking if you’re not working a case next weekend, I might come down for a visit.”

“Really?” Emily asked excitedly.

“Yeah, I mean, this was great,” Diana said, “But it’s been too long since I’ve been able to touch you for real.”

Emily smiled. “I would love that, Diana.”

“We can work out the details tomorrow, okay?” Diana said, “I’ll talk to you later, Em. I love you.”

“I love you more,” Emily said back.

They hung up the phone, and both girlfriends simultaneously lay back, hugged their phones to their chests, and sighed contentedly.


	12. Washed Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monica does her best to comfort Dana, who is reeling from having to give up William. Dana Scully/Monica Reyes (The X-Files), rated E.

Tears stung behind Dana’s eyes, and she choked back a sob as she grazed her hands over the mint green layette her mother made for William. For the first week after she’d handed him over to the social worker, she’d been unable to even look at any of his baby things, but now she wanted them out of her apartment. She wanted to grieve her son and move on. Easier said than done.

She felt a soft pair of hands land firmly on her upper arms, and turned her head back to see Monica’s face full of love and concern. Her bottom lip trembled, and she opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Monica understood her, anyway.

“Let me do that, Dana,” Monica gently urged.

Dana turned to face Monica. “Thank you for being here,” she managed to whisper, “I don’t think I could…” Tears streamed down her cheeks as her voice trailed off, and her shoulders began to shake. She buried her face against Monica’s shoulder and let the tears come. Monica wrapped her arms around Dana and held her close, gently rubbing her back.

“What kind of mother—” Dana sobbed.

“A _good_ one,” Monica stopped her, “One who loves her child so much that she’d do anything to give him the best chance in life. One who always does the right thing for her son, even when it hurts her.” She continued rubbing Dana’s back and let the petite redhead cry it out in her arms. When she felt Dana’s breathing steady, she pulled back and looked kindly into her red-rimmed gray eyes.

“Maybe you should rest a little,” Monica said, gently wiping tears from Dana’s cheeks, “Take care of yourself; let me take care of things in here, hey? Maybe a hot shower will help you feel a little better.”

Dana nodded. Monica gave her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze and watched her walk to the bathroom. One hand on the doorknob, Dana turned back to look at Monica, who offered her a kind, gentle half-smile before turning her attention to the pile of baby things.

Dana turned on the shower and let the searing hot water wash over her, droplets mixing with hot tears as they rolled down her face. She stood still, eyes closed, wishing the water would melt her skin and wash her away. A sob built in her chest, and she tried to choke it back, but when she couldn’t fight it anymore, she let the strangled cry escape her lips. The sob was followed by a plaintive wail as she sank forward onto her knees and gave in to the all-consuming grief she felt.

“Monica!” she cried out.

She heard Monica knock softly on the bathroom door. “Dana? Dana, honey, I’m right here. What do you need?”

“Monica…” she said again. She heard the door open, and Monica tiptoed in.

“Dana?” Monica asked softly.

Dana stood and poked her head out from behind the shower curtain. A dripping, trembling arm reached out and grabbed Monica’s hand. “I don’t want to be alone right now,” Dana managed to choke out.

“I’m right here,” Monica assured her, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Monica undressed and slid into the shower behind Dana. She pressed herself into Dana’s back and wrapped her arms around her, holding up the sobbing, shaking redhead. She placed a tender kiss against Dana’s scalp and waited for her to catch her breath and find her feet before reaching for Dana’s soap and lathering up her hands. She ran her hands over Dana’s body, and Dana felt a delicious tingling sensation at Monica’s touch. It was the first time she’d felt good since Baby William left her arms for the last time. Dana tilted her head back to place a tender kiss on Monica’s lips. Monica gently guided the redhead under the stream and let the soap rinse off her body before turning her and pulling her in for a deeper, passionate kiss. Dana wrapped her arms around Monica’s neck and moaned softly.

“Let me help you,” Monica whispered, “I know what you need to feel right now.”

Dana nodded her assent as Monica leaned down and began kissing all along her neck. She slid her hands around to cup Monica’s ass as the tall brunette’s fingers began circling one of her nipples. Monica guided Dana forward, in front of the falling water, until her back was against the tile wall of the shower. She slid her hands down Dana’s body and slowly knelt in front of her, looking up reverently, like she was about to pray.

“Please, Monica,” Dana pleaded.

Monica placed her hands firmly on Dana’s hips and slowly dragged her tongue along Dana’s pussy. She thrust in and out slowly, fucking Dana with her tongue, eliciting a series of soft, breathy moans from the trembling redhead. The tile floor of the shower was starting to hurt Monica’s knees, but she didn’t care; all that mattered was making Dana feel good. Monica took Dana’s clit into her mouth and sucked, two fingers replacing tongue to thrust inside her. Dana wailed, a long, keening sound combining all the pleasure and grief she felt in that moment. Tears streamed down her face as her orgasm took hold of her body. She clenched around Monica’s fingers and fell forward, steadying herself with a hand on Monica’s shoulder. She let her fingers twist idly around a lock of wet, dark brown hair as she caught her breath.

“Thank you,” Dana whispered.

Monica got up off her knees with a groan. She pulled Dana in close. “I’m always here for you, Dana,” she said softly, and planted a kiss on the redhead’s lips.

The hot stream of water had started to turn cold, and Monica reached past Dana to turn it off. She looked back over her shoulder to see Dana shiver in the cold air. She stepped out of the shower and dried herself off with a fluffy, sky blue towel before wrapping Dana in an identical one and gently guiding her out of the shower. She dried Dana off as she planted gentle kisses on her cheeks.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Monica said, “You need some sleep.”

“Come with me?” Dana pleaded.

Monica nodded. She led Dana to the bedroom and turned down the bed as Dana reached into her dresser and fished out some pajamas for herself and an oversized nightshirt for Monica. They quickly threw on their pajamas and snuggled up under the covers, Dana as the little spoon to Monica’s big spoon. Monica waited until Dana fell asleep, then quietly slipped into the living room to finish boxing up the remaining baby things. She moved as quickly and as quietly as possible, not wanting Dana to wake up and notice her absence. She finished her task and slipped quietly back into bed with the still sleeping redhead, returning to her post as big spoon. She would still be there in the morning, and for as long as Dana needed her.


	13. You're Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JJ marks her territory. Emily Prentiss/Jennifer Jareau (Criminal Minds), rated T.

“Fuck! JJ!” came the exasperated yell from the bathroom.

“What?” JJ called back, even though she knew perfectly well _what_. She lounged lazily in the bed and fought back the shit-eating grin that started creeping across her face.

Emily emerged from behind the bathroom door. “You gave me a hickey?” she said, “What are we, sixteen?”

JJ sat up on her knees and looked at Emily innocently. “Oops,” she said sweetly.

“Yeah, you’re damn right!” Emily retorted, “We have to go to work tomorrow.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing you look so good in turtlenecks,” JJ teased.

“You fucking asshole,” Emily said, but there was no anger or frustration in her voice as she strode across the room and crawled up onto the bed next to JJ. “You know, JJ, if you wanted to see me in a turtleneck, all you had to do was ask,” she deadpanned before catching the blonde’s lips in a passionate kiss.

“I think it looks sexy,” JJ said, gently grazing her fingertips over her handiwork on Emily’s neck.

“Oh, you do, do you?” Emily laughed.

“Yes,” JJ insisted, “I like seeing my marks on you.” She leaned in and kissed Emily again.

“Okay, but, I’m _gonna_ cover it up, you know,” Emily said.

JJ raised one eyebrow. “We’ll still know it’s there,” she said with a sexy grin.

Emily rolled her eyes. She smiled and dragged a finger along JJ’s jawline before planting a kiss on her forehead. “You’re ridiculous sometimes.”

“But you love me,” JJ retorted sweetly.

Emily shook her head. “God help me, I do.” She leaned in and kissed the grinning blonde.

“Come on,” JJ said, “You don’t think it’s just a _little_ bit sexy, knowing there’s a hickey under that turtleneck?”

“I don’t know,” Emily replied, “I guess I’ll have to test it out.”

She sank her teeth into JJ’s collarbone and gave her an identical hickey.


	14. Breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The morning after. Emily wakes up in Tara’s apartment and discovers her new lady friend has a hidden talent: cooking. Mostly I just felt like writing a cute, sexy thing that involved intimate moments between two women, but no actual sex scenes. Emily Prentiss/Tara Lewis (Criminal Minds), rated M, although an argument could possibly be made for T.

Emily Prentiss awoke in an unfamiliar bedroom. She blinked her eyes and looked around, and tensed up a little when she realized where she was. She’d hooked up with Tara a few times since coming back to the BAU to help out while Hotch was on temporary assignment, but this was the first time she’d spent the night. She looked over at Tara, who was already awake and looking up at her with a smile.

“Good morning,” Tara said.

“Good morning,” Emily said back, leaning in for a kiss.

“Are you aware that you’re a terrible blanket hog, _and_ you kick?” Tara asked matter-of-factly.

Emily widened her eyes and scoffed. “Well, you could always stop sleeping with me,” she pouted.

“Not a chance,” Tara said with a smile, and pulled Emily in for another kiss. They kissed slowly and lazily, too wrapped up in enjoying the sensation of each other to care about silly little things like morning breath. Tara finally pulled back.

“You want something to eat?” she asked.

“Mmmmm, you read my mind,” Emily growled, and began kissing her way down Tara’s chest.

“I meant food, you horndog!” Tara laughed, gently pushing Emily back with a playful shove.

Emily smiled. “Well okay,” she said, “But I don’t think anything could possibly taste as good as your pussy.”

Tara leaned in and gave Emily a tender kiss. “See, you say that now,” she said, “But you’ve never actually tried my cooking.”

Emily raised her eyebrows. “Oh, yeah?” she laughed.

“I happen to be an excellent cook,” Tara said, “Let me make you breakfast; I’ll prove it.” She hopped out of bed and walked over to her dresser. She rummaged around and fished out a sports bra and a pair of running shorts, which she threw on quickly before heading to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator door and looked inside to see what she could make for Emily. She noticed some bell peppers that would only be good for another day or so, and decided a Denver omelet was just ambitious enough to show off her skills without taking too much time or effort.

She closed the refrigerator door and turned to see Emily yawn as she shuffled into the kitchen. She had grabbed a long, oversized cardigan off the chair in Tara’s bedroom and wrapped it around herself, and she was wearing nothing under it. Tara grinned at Emily as she grabbed a knife from the block on the counter and began chopping peppers and onions.

“That’s a good look for you,” she said.

Emily chuckled. “Thanks,” she said, “Where do you keep the coffee around here?”

“Left hand side of the stove,” Tara said, pointing the knife in the direction of the cabinet.

Emily opened the cabinet and shifted her eyes up, up to the high shelf where Tara kept the coffee. She stood up on her tiptoes and stretched out as long as she could, her fingertips just brushing against the coffee can. She let out a soft groan as she reached, and Tara turned around and laughed. She came up behind Emily, putting a hand on the shorter woman’s waist as she reached her other arm up to grab the coffee can. She put the can on the counter in front of Emily and craned her neck around to kiss Emily’s cheek.

“Sorry,” Tara said, “Sometimes I forget not everyone’s six feet tall.”

Tara returned to her cutting board as Emily made coffee. Emily kept turning around to sneak glances at Tara. Tara was truly in her element here, and Emily loved watching her work. _I could get used to this,_ Emily thought to herself as Tara began cracking eggs into a bowl.

Emily came up behind Tara and snaked her arms around the taller woman’s waist. The cardigan fell open slightly without Emily’s hands to pull it closed, and Tara felt Emily’s bare skin against her back. She sighed at the sensation, and let herself get so distracted that she let a piece of eggshell fall into the bowl.

“Shit!” she cursed as she snapped back into reality, fishing the shell fragments out of the bowl.

“This is how you impress me with your culinary skills?” Emily teased.

Tara rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, usually when I cook, I don’t have gorgeous, half-naked women distracting me,” she said.

“They’re usually fully naked?” Emily deadpanned.

Tara laughed, then turned her head to kiss Emily. “Alright, at least make yourself useful,” she said, “There’s a big skillet in the drawer under the oven; go heat up some oil for me.”

Emily did as she was told, and Tara snuck a furtive glance at her ass when she bent down to get the skillet out.

“That’s perfect, babe,” Tara said, “Now move over and let me cook.” She gave Emily a playful swat on the ass as she shooed her away from the stove. Emily scoffed in mock indignation. Tara leaned over and gave her another kiss before turning her attention back to the stove. The kitchen filled with the delicious aroma of peppers, onions, and ham as Tara cooked.

“Mmmmm, that smells good,” Emily said. She rested her hands behind her on the counter and leaned back. The cardigan fell open, completely exposing one of her breasts.

Tara’s eyes immediately shot to Emily’s chest. “Okay, now you’re just _trying_ to distract me,” she said.

“Am I?” Emily teased, pulling the cardigan open all the way.

Tara shook her head. “Just go get me a plate.”

Emily put a plate down on the counter next to Tara.

“Thank you,” Tara said, “Now go sit someplace where I can’t be distracted by your incredible tits.”

Emily snorted. She pulled the cardigan closed and stalked out of the kitchen to sit at the dining table while Tara started cooking the eggs. The smell of the omelet was making Emily’s mouth water.

“I’m getting hungry,” came Emily’s singsong voice from the table.

“Patience, my dear,” Tara teased, “It’s almost ready. Why don’t you come pour us some coffee?”

“You sure you won’t get distracted by my tits?” Emily deadpanned as she stood up from the table and grabbed the cream from the fridge. She turned to Tara with two mugs of coffee at the exact moment Tara plated the omelet and turned towards her. They leaned in and kissed. _I could get used to this,_ Tara thought to herself as they sat down at the dining table.

Emily took a few bites of the omelet. “Oh, this is really good, Tara,” she said.

Tara cocked an eyebrow. “Even better than my pussy?” she teased.

Emily smiled. “Equally as good,” she replied.


	15. Intermezzo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stop me if you’ve heard this one: Two sapphic psychologists walk into a bar after a particularly tough custodial interview… I did try to capture the aesthetic of Hannibal with this one. Not so sure I actually succeeded. Tara Lewis/Alana Bloom (Criminal Minds, Hannibal), rated M.

It was a chilly day in that in-between time that wasn’t quite winter, but wasn’t quite spring; the time when the sun shone brightly in clear blue skies, but didn’t actually seem to warm anything below it, when lingering patches of snow melted away to reveal the season’s earliest blossoms. Tara sat on a bench in the crisp March air and reviewed her file on Lance McMichael. She’d interviewed a couple of family annihilators before, but something about McMichael sent shivers down her spine.

“You must be Dr. Lewis,” a voice said. Tara looked up from her file and into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.

“Tara,” she said, standing to shake the other woman’s hand.

“Alana Bloom. Nice to meet you.” Alana took a second to look over the elegant, statuesque woman standing in front of her. She’d already been intrigued once by Dr. Lewis’ thoroughly impressive resumé, but now she found herself equally intrigued by the agent’s striking good looks and smooth, sultry voice. That very same voice snapped her back to attention.

“So,” Tara said, “What can you tell me about McMichael that I don’t already know from this file?”

“He’s charming,” Alana said, “Infuriatingly charming. And… _incredibly_ detached. He’ll tell you how he slit a child’s throat the same way he’ll tell you that he likes your earrings—it’s…chilling. And he has a way of getting under your skin if you’re not careful, so, well, be careful.”

Tara took a deep breath. “Okay, then. How many sessions have you done with him?”

“Nine,” Alana replied soberly. She took a moment to meet Tara’s eyes with an understanding that could only be shared by two people who had witnessed the same horrors. She smiled slightly. “Shall we?”

Tara extended her arm. “After you.” Tara’s eyes grazed over the figure of the impeccably dressed woman just a few steps ahead of her, noticing how her dark curls perfectly caught the light of the afternoon sun on the walk up to the prison. They both turned up the collars of their coats against a sudden, cold wind as they entered through the secure gates.

The inside of the prison was warmer, but no less chilling. The warden led the two women to a secure interrogation room. Soon after, a guard led in a shackled inmate, a slight man in his forties with neat, sandy hair and wire-rimmed glasses. He turned to the women and smiled warmly.

“Alana,” he said, “So nice to see you again. And you brought a friend with you.”

“Hello, Lance,” Alana said, “This is Dr. Tara Lewis from the FBI. She has some questions she’d like to ask you. I hope you’ll be as cooperative and forthcoming with her as you are with me.”

The inmate pulled out a chair and sat down. “Of course, _Tara_ ,” he said, making a point of calling her by her given name, “Please, sit. Both of you. I am…at your disposal.”

Tara hadn’t even asked anything, and she was already feeling her skin crawl. Custodial interviews were never easy, but she could tell this one would be a doozy. Alana had heard it all before: McMichael describing his kills in a calm, even lilt like he was reading a bedtime story; the look on his ex-wife’s face when he murdered their four children in front of her; the killing spree through suburban Maryland that followed; his utter lack of remorse for any of it. Tara hadn’t. Alana was right when she described his demeanor as “chilling.” She was also right about him figuring out how to get under her skin. Tara and Alana had both been face-to-face with more than their fair share of charming sociopaths, but McMichael was by far the most difficult. Calm, steely Tara kept her cool throughout, but by the end, Alana suspected she was close to breaking. Tara was loath to admit just how much McMichael got to her.

“Well, I got a lot I can use from that. Thank you, Alana,” Tara said stoically once they were outside the prison.

“Of course,” Alana said, “Let me know if I can do anything else to help.” She paused and narrowed her eyes slightly at Tara. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked, “The first time with a guy like McMichael…it’s—We were in there with him for a while; I just hope it wasn’t too much.”

“I’ll be fine,” Tara sighed, “I’ve done plenty of custodial interviews before, but, yeah, McMichael was…a particular challenge.”

“You look like you could use a drink,” Alana said.

“Yeah, or five,” Tara replied.

Alana shrugged and gave Tara a half-smile. “I’m buying.”

Tara ran her tongue along her bottom lip as she quickly looked Alana up and down. “Yeah, alright,” she said, “The bar at my hotel has a pretty decent wine list.”

Alana got in her car and followed Tara to the hotel. The sun still set fairly early this time of year, and it was already getting dark by the time they reached their destination. Tara looked even more beautiful in twilight, Alana thought as she pulled her scarf up over her chin and strode confidently over to her companion for the evening. Once inside, they shed their winter outerwear, and Tara’s eyes darted to Alana’s ruby necklace—yes, definitely the necklace, and not the pale, smooth breasts just below it.

“That’s a lovely necklace,” Tara said in an attempt to salvage herself.

“Thank you,” Alana said, “It was my grandmother’s.”

They found two seats at the bar and ordered two glasses of a Rioja Reserva from the bar’s pretty decent wine list. The wine was rich and earthy, and Tara found herself gradually relaxing as she sipped it and smiled at the gorgeous blue-eyed brunette beside her. A familiar piano tune wafted through the bar.

“I know this piece…” Tara mused.

“It’s Rachmaninoff,” Alana said, “Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini.”

Tara sipped her wine. “Classical music fan, are you?” she asked.

Alana shrugged. “More of a dilettante, really.”

“Tell me,” Tara said, placing her wineglass down and leaning one elbow on the bar, “How do you usually unwind after spending the afternoon with a guy like McMichael?”

Alana smiled and cleared her throat gently. “Well, uh, I do enjoy curling up in an armchair with a good book and a cup of tea, but on tough days like today, tea’s not quite strong enough.”

Tara held up her wine glass and examined the rich red liquid. “This seems to be doing the trick,” she said, “How are you liking it?”

“It’s good,” Alana said quickly, then shook her head slightly, “I-I have to admit I’m really more of a beer drinker.” She put the glass down and bit her lower lip. “I only ordered the wine to impress you.”

Tara smiled and chuckled softly. “I’d be impressed with you no matter what you drank,” she confessed, her voice low and husky. Her eyes met Alana’s, and they both felt a rush of electricity pulse through them.

“You’re pretty impressive yourself, Tara,” Alana said, gently brushing her fingers against Tara’s, “I’d love to know more about you.”

Tara grazed her thumb over Alana’s. “Anything specific you want to know?” she asked coyly.

“All of it,” Alana said, “I’ve got plenty of time.”

Tara raised an eyebrow and looked at Alana with a flirtatious smile. “Well in that case,” she said, “I’ll stay here as long as you’re buying.”

“I don’t know about you,” Alana said, looking up at Tara through her eyelashes, “But I don’t feel like being alone tonight.”

No sooner had the elevator doors closed than Tara wrapped a hand around the back of Alana’s head and pulled her in for a kiss. She savored the sensation of Alana’s soft lips against hers, the taste of Spanish wine lingering on her tongue, the silky brown curls under her fingertips. Alana placed her hands on the taller woman’s waist and leaned into the kiss, losing herself in the warmth of Tara’s lips until the elevator dinged on the seventh floor. Tara took Alana by the hand and led her down the hallway to her room.

Once inside, Alana stood up on her tiptoes and threw her arms around Tara’s neck, bringing her in for a searing, passionate kiss. Tara moaned softly into the kiss as she slowly let her hands gravitate to the shorter woman’s waist and unzip her charcoal gray skirt. The fabric dropped to the floor, and Alana stepped out of it, along with her heels. In her bare feet, she was a full eight inches shorter than Tara, and she had to reach up to push the pinstripe blazer off her shoulders. Still holding Alana’s lips against hers, Tara threw the jacket onto a nearby chair, then unbuckled her belt and kicked off her shoes and socks. She slid her tongue into Alana’s mouth and let her fingers twist in her lush, dark curls as Alana’s nimble fingers unbuttoned Tara’s coral blouse. She slipped her hands under the silky fabric and grazed over the smooth skin of Tara’s abdomen, causing the taller woman to shudder slightly. Tara pulled back from the kiss and shrugged her shirt all the way off before stepping back in close to Alana and dragging a knuckle along her jawline and down her neck and collarbone to the sweetheart neckline of her dark green blouse. Alana pulled the shirt off and tossed in on the floor beside her, then looked up and met Tara’s eyes in a smoldering gaze. Tara’s heart raced, and she felt a warm tingling between her legs as she looked into the crystal blue eyes of the half-dressed woman standing before her.

“You are…incredibly beautiful, Alana,” she murmured, before craning her neck down and capturing the other woman’s lips in a bruising kiss. Her hands roamed Alana’s body, eventually settling on the backs of her thighs and lifting the small brunette up to rest on her hips. Alana gasped in surprise, but then smiled and pressed her forehead against Tara’s, resting her arms on Tara’s shoulders and wrapping her legs tight around her waist. Tara kissed her lightly, then walked her across the room and lay her down gently on the plush king-sized bed. Tara took off her pants as she drank in the sight of Alana, lying back on the bed, propped up on her elbows with her lustrous curls tumbling down her shoulders behind her and her legs just slightly spread apart, wearing only her white lace bra and underwear and sparkling ruby necklace.

She climbed onto the bed and crawled on top of Alana, leaning her head down to kiss her deeply and passionately as they began moving against each other in perfect rhythm, savoring the feeling of each other’s bodies. As Tara gave in to the heady sensation, she felt the tension of the afternoon leave her body; the chill of the day’s events give way to the blazing heat of Alana’s touch. She cleared her mind of all thoughts and let her senses take over: the sight of Alana writhing in pleasure beneath her; the sound of her breathy moans; the smell of her perfume; the taste of her lips; the feeling of her soft skin, her breasts, her wetness on Tara’s fingers. Alana clenched around Tara’s fingers and let out a high-pitched whine, a sound so intoxicating it made Tara momentarily forget where she was. When her senses returned to her, she found herself leaning against the headboard, thighs apart, with Alana positioned between them. She met Alana’s eyes—clear, stunning blues now dark with lust—and smiled as she watched Alana’s dark, curly mane dip down between her legs. She was already aroused, and she let Alana’s skillful tongue and fingers take her higher, higher, soaring towards her climax. She gripped the sheets and cried out as ecstasy coursed through her body once and then twice, a second orgasm riding on the heels of her first.

She lay back in comfortable silence and smiled as she lazily stroked the hair of the smaller brunette now curled up against her body. She craned her neck down and planted a gentle kiss on Alana’s forehead, eliciting a happy sigh. Alana gently traced her fingers along Tara’s collarbone, her skin smooth and warm underneath her fingertips. She looked up into Tara’s sparkling eyes.

“You really are gorgeous,” Alana whispered before tilting her chin up to meet Tara’s mouth in a gentle, leisurely kiss. Tara wrapped her arms around Alana and pulled her on top of herself. Alana smiled and stroked Tara’s cheek, before returning her lips to Tara’s mouth again and sliding her tongue in. Tara’s hands roamed Alana’s body as they kissed slowly and lazily, like they had all the time in the world. The night was young, and neither of them had any intention of spending it alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In keeping with Hannibal episodes being named after culinary terms, “intermezzo” is an Italian word which refers to a small dish of sorbet served between courses as a palate cleanser. (If you’ve seen The Princess Diaries, you’ll be familiar with the concept.)  
> Also, I looked it up: Caroline Dhavernas really is eight inches shorter than Aisha Tyler.


	16. Doppelgänger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After Scully turns her down, Monica goes to an FBI conference where she meets a beguiling and oddly familiar blonde woman who may be able to help her forget her troubles. Or, alternatively, Monica Reyes swaps one Gillian Anderson for another. Monica Reyes/Bedelia du Maurier (The X-Files, Hannibal), rated T.

_“Monica, don’t…”_

The words rang hollow in Monica’s ears, rattling around in her brain since she’d heard them come out of Dana’s mouth four days ago. The sting of rejection was just as fresh, just as raw as if it had happened four minutes ago. She could still feel Dana pushing her away, see her turning head away from the kiss, hear the sadness in her voice as she fought back against the smoldering tension that had been building between them. There _was_ something there. Monica knew it; Dana didn’t even try to deny it, but Mulder— _Fuck Mulder,_ Monica thought as she slumped her shoulders over the bar and stared into her scotch, _The guy disappears without a trace almost a year ago, and Dana_ still _can’t let him go._ She took a sip of her drink, shook her head, and rolled her shoulders back, trying to push all thoughts of Dana and Mulder and the last four days out of her mind. She’d registered for this conference months ago, but now she was especially glad for the chance to put some distance between herself and the redheaded object of her affections who had just shot her down.

“Is this seat taken?” asked a smooth, lilting voice behind her. Monica turned to see a petite blonde woman in a pink silk blouse, sleek black skirt, and designer heels. She recognized her from an earlier lecture, but there was something else familiar about this woman that Monica just couldn’t place.

“Dr. du Maurier…” she said.

“Bedelia,” the blonde woman corrected.

Monica smiled. “Bedelia. Please, sit.”

Bedelia nodded to Monica and smiled as she took her seat and ordered a glass of white wine. She turned and looked straight into Monica’s eyes. Monica’s heart skipped a beat under the blonde woman’s intense, steely gaze. There was something about Bedelia’s solemn gray eyes and perfectly arched eyebrows, the narrow bridge of her nose and the curve of her lips—something about this blonde woman somehow simultaneously reminded her of Dana and made her forget about Dana altogether. Monica was transfixed.

“You know my name,” Bedelia said to the tall brunette, “But I’m afraid I don’t know yours.”

“Monica Reyes,” she replied, extending her right hand to the doctor.

“And you’re FBI?” Bedelia asked as she shook Monica’s hand.

“Yes,” the agent said, “Out of D.C. I’m currently attached to the X-Files.”

“Ahh,” Bedelia hummed, raising her eyebrows, “Close encounters and paranormal phenomena. Very nice, Agent Reyes.”

“You’ve heard of it?” Monica said in surprise, “Most people either don’t know about it or dismiss it as science fiction and conspiracy theories.”

Bedelia shook her head. “There are more things in heaven and earth, Monica, than are dreamt of in our philosophy.”

Monica smiled. “I’ve always thought so.” She took a sip of her scotch and let the rush from the alcohol mix with the rush of flirting with an attractive woman as she felt her heart beat faster and her cheeks begin to flush. “You’re not FBI, though, are you?” she continued.

“No,” Bedelia said, “I’m a psychiatrist. But I consult, occasionally, on psychological profiles, and I lecture at conferences like these.”

“You enjoy helping out the crime fighters?” Monica asked playfully with a flirty smile.

Bedelia laughed. “Actually I usually find these conferences insufferably dull, but then, most FBI agents aren’t nearly as charming as you are.” She let the toe of her expensive shoe graze lightly against the leg of Monica’s pants and smiled as she lifted her wineglass to take a sip. Monica looked down into her glass and blushed. She bit her lower lip, allowing the brief jolt of pain to assure her that, yes, this was really happening; she wasn’t dreaming; this suave, cultured, and impossibly sexy blonde doctor was actually displaying interest in her.

“I’d say you’re quite the charmer yourself, Bedelia,” Monica murmured as she looked back up through her eyelashes, meeting Bedelia’s stormy eyes in a smoldering gaze.

Bedelia held Monica’s gaze as she slowly inched in closer and closer to the brunette. She tilted her head and gently placed one hand on Monica’s thigh. Monica slid her fingers into Bedelia’s golden hair and closed the gap between them, their lips meeting in an electrifying kiss. The taste of Tuscan wine lingered on the blonde’s lips, making Monica’s head spin as she pulled Bedelia in closer and deepened the kiss. Bedelia melted ever so slightly at the marvelous sensation of the brunette’s soft lips on hers, and she let out a quiet whimper against Monica’s mouth. Monica couldn’t believe how responsive Bedelia was to her touch, and she started to feel a tantalizing ache between her legs.

Bedelia broke the kiss. She smiled coyly at Monica as she straightened her blouse and smoothed her hair. “And here I thought I wasn’t going to have any fun this weekend,” she said teasingly.

“Oh, I’m a lot of fun,” Monica teased back.

“I don’t doubt that,” Bedelia chuckled. She finished her wine and placed the glass down on the bar in front of her before turning back to Monica. She looked into Monica’s sparkling brown eyes with a hungry, yearning gaze and husked, “Would you like to get out of here?”

_“Monica, please…”_

The words echoed deliciously in Monica’s ears as she dressed for the second day of the conference, taking extra care to make sure the collar of her shirt covered the purple mark Bedelia had left on her the night before. She smiled to herself in the mirror. She’d come to this conference hoping to forget her troubles, but instead, she’d found something much, much better.


	17. Kiss Me Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emily’s been trying to keep things professional, but that’s not so easy when you work with the sexiest hacker on the planet. Emily Prentiss/Penelope Garcia (Criminal Minds), rated T.

It was that damned red lipstick. Every time Penelope wore red lipstick, Emily found herself staring at the technical analyst’s mouth, wondering what those soft red lips would feel like against her own. Emily’s attraction to women was something of an open secret at the BAU; she’d never explicitly confirmed it, but it hadn’t taken very long for the team to figure it out. She took extra care to be as subtle and discreet as possible when it came to her attraction to Penelope—they did work with a team of profilers, after all—but _fucking hell,_ it was actually, physically painful to pull her eyes away from Penelope’s tantalizing, scarlet lips.

Penelope, for her part, had been completely bewitched by the dark-haired agent since the day she’d joined the team. She’d never seriously thought of herself as bisexual: Sure, girls were pretty and fun to kiss sometimes, but she didn’t think she could ever really have _feelings_ for another woman—or, at least, she hadn’t until she met Emily Prentiss.

Their most recent case had been tough on everyone, but especially Penelope. Emily noticed something was wrong the next day in the office, when she saw Penelope’s ruby lips twist into a worried frown. The normally sunny technical analyst had been in a funk all day, too upset to even banter playfully with Morgan. Holed up in her office, she tried unsuccessfully to push the horrors of the previous case out of her mind and think of pleasant things like kittens and Christmas lights and…Emily.

“Hey, why don’t you let me drive you home?” Emily had offered when she noticed those pretty red lips start to quiver ever so slightly as Penelope struggled to put on a brave face. It was just an innocent, friendly gesture, she convinced herself, nothing more. Penelope needed a friend right now, and that’s just what Emily would be for her. She could keep her cool for as long as it took to drive her friend home from work. As it turned out, that was _precisely_ how long Emily Prentiss could keep her cool.

“Thanks, Em,” Penelope said with a soft smile and a gentle hand on Emily’s elbow as they stood outside her apartment building. The blonde woman looked beautiful in the soft, evening light of the courtyard, and Emily’s eyes darted to the perfect, cherry red mouth that had haunted her thoughts for the past year. Something powerful came over her; she lurched forward and brought her lips to Penelope’s like they were pulled by magnets. She felt an exhilarating rush when their lips finally met in an electrifying kiss, the warmth of the excitement and of Penelope’s lips completely overtaking the cold of the November evening air. A meteor could strike her right now, she thought, and she would die a happy woman with her lips pressed against Penelope’s. Then, suddenly, she came to her senses and pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” she said, casting her eyes toward the ground as her face began to turn the color of Penelope’s lipstick, “Fuck, I don’t know why I—that was stupid of me; I’m really sorry…”

“Kiss me again, Emily,” Penelope said softly.

Emily scanned the blonde woman’s face, looking for any sign that this was some sort of cruel joke. Instead, she saw only genuine affection and desire. She leaned in again, hesitantly at first, but then she gave in to the magnetic pull as she crashed her lips back into Penelope’s. This kiss was deeper, hungrier. Emily relaxed and let herself truly enjoy the feeling of Penelope’s lips moving against hers, and oh, god, it was even better than she’d imagined it would be. She tangled her fingers in blonde waves as she felt Penelope’s tongue slide effortlessly into her mouth. Kissing Penelope was so deliciously intoxicating, and Emily was starting to feel dizzy from the sensation. She pulled back from the kiss, and had just started to catch her breath, but then— _oh, fuck_ —those scarlet lips were soft and warm against her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

“Penelope,” she gasped. Penelope pulled back to look at Emily, meeting her eyes in a loving gaze. Her lipstick had smudged slightly, and Emily couldn’t help smiling at the sight and at the thought that some of it might be on her neck right now. She stroked Penelope’s cheek and leaned in once again to give her a light, tender kiss.

“God, do you have any idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that?” Emily murmured.

“Well, I’m not a profiler,” Penelope said coyly, “But I might have had an inkling.” She took Emily’s hand and gave it a loving squeeze.

“I, uh, I guess we should probably talk tomorrow,” Emily said, twisting a lock of golden hair around the index finger of her free hand.

“Yeah, tomorrow,” Penelope said with a soft smile. Emily’s hand gently cupped her cheek.

“Goodnight, Penelope,” Emily said softly.

“Goodnight, Emily,” Penelope said back. They kissed again, a sweet, pure, loving kiss that told them both there would be many more after it.


	18. The Truth Comes Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emily’s been keeping a secret from her team. But when a case involving a white-collar criminal takes the BAU to New York—and Emily’s secret girlfriend—she finally finds the courage to come out to them. This fic is inspired by, but not related to CM S5E14, “Parasite,” in which the BAU chases a rapidly devolving con artist. I guess it probably takes place sometime around the events of the WC pilot, shortly before Diana transfers to Washington. Maybe the BAU is helping to catch Neal Caffrey after his escape from prison? Who knows. All I know is that Emily and Diana deserve lots of love and happiness and cute gay moments, and Clinton Jones is definitely a protective big brother. Emily Prentiss/Diana Barrigan (Criminal Minds, White Collar), rated T.

Emily sat at her desk and caught herself up on emails and paperwork as she exchanged pleasantries with Morgan and listened to a litany of facts and statistics from Reid. Halfway through the morning, a signal from Hotch told them all to meet in the conference room; they had a new case. Just another day of working at the BAU.

“This isn’t exactly our usual fare,” JJ said as the team took their seats around the table in the conference room, “New York needs our help catching a serial conman.”

“Oh, we’re working with New York White Collar on this one?” Emily asked, trying her best to sound casual and conceal her anxiety.

“That’s right,” JJ said.

_Jesus fucking Christ, that’s perfect; I mean, what are the odds,_ Emily thought to herself. She tried to focus on the briefing, but her thoughts were racing and her heart pounding at the prospect of going to New York. New York—and specifically New York’s White Collar Crimes Unit—was where Diana was, where the secret she’d been keeping from her team was. Her worlds were about to collide, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for it. Not that her relationship with Diana was a secret, really. Emily was completely out in her personal life, and she and Diana had met each other’s parents months ago, but despite the enormous amount of time she spent at the BAU and the closeness she felt to her team, Emily still wasn’t out at work. She planned to come out to her team, of course, _eventually,_ but it had taken her a while to really feel like she fit in with them, and well, she liked the way things were now.

“Conman’s a nice name for these guys. They profile as psychopaths,” Derek said.

“Which is why our expertise will be so important on this one,” Hotch replied, “Wheels up in 30.”

Emily went to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face before grabbing her ready bag and heading for the plane. She could do this, she told herself. She could keep her cool; she could keep her secret; she could keep her breakfast from coming back up. She pulled out her phone to text Diana. _Hey,_ she wrote, _here’s some interesting news: Looks like we’ll be working a case together. My team’s on our way to NY right now._

_I heard. Guess I’ll be seeing you a lot sooner than I thought I would!_ was Diana’s reply. Emily wasn’t too surprised that her girlfriend seemed a little less rattled by this development; after all, Diana was already out to her coworkers. She found herself thinking about this on the plane, about how comfortable Diana was making casual mentions of her sexual orientation at work, and how readily the other agents on her team had accepted her for who she was. Emily hated to admit how jealous she was of her girlfriend, but she so desperately wanted that for herself, too. Everything she knew about her team told her they would react to her coming out in much the same way Diana’s team had, but something was still stopping her from taking the plunge.

“Everything okay, Prentiss?” Morgan asked when he noticed the dark-haired agent’s brow furrow as she stared out the window in deep thought.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Emily assured him, “I was just thinking about what makes someone decide to pretend to be someone they’re not.”

The BAU team landed in New York and arrived at the FBI field office. Emily’s heart was pounding loud enough that she was sure her entire team could hear it as they rode the elevator up to the White Collar Crimes Unit.

“Hi, I’m Jennifer Jareau,” JJ said to a middle-aged man in a gray suit, “Are you Agent Burke?”

“Yes,” the man said, shaking JJ’s hand, “Special Agent Peter Burke; these are Special Agents Jones and Barrigan.”

“Nice to meet you,” JJ said, “These are SSAs Hotchner, Morgan, Reid, Rossi, and Prentiss.”

Peter took Emily’s hand in a genial, two-handed shake. “Oh, man, it is so nice to finally meet you—” he began, but noticed Emily widen her eyes and shake her head slightly. He glanced over at Diana before quickly adding, “All. Thank you _all_ for coming out here.”

“Of course,” Hotch said, pretending not to notice the brief exchange between Burke, Barrigan, and Prentiss, “Let’s get started.”

Peter led the BAU team to an empty conference room where they could set up camp and talked them through the details of the case. Emily did her best to focus all her attention on Hotch and the case, but here she was, just inches away from her girlfriend whom she hadn’t seen in a couple weeks, and _fuck_ if Diana didn’t look sexy as hell in her tailored pinstripe suit and turquoise silk blouse with her hair pulled back in a neat bun. She tore her eyes away from Diana and focused back on Hotch as he gave the team their assignments.

“Morgan and Dave, go interview the last victim; Reid, I want you here going over surveillance footage with Jones. Prentiss, can you get started on the paper trail?” he said.

“I’ll show you where everything is,” Diana piped up.

“Thanks,” Emily said with a quick, knowing smile. She kept a respectable distance between the two of them as Diana led her to the elevator to show her to the evidence room.

Keeping her eyes fixed straight ahead on the closed elevator doors, Diana very calmly said, “There’s a camera in this elevator; otherwise, I’d be kissing you right now.”

Emily smiled. “I appreciate your professionalism, Agent Barrigan,” she teased, surreptitiously linking her pinky with Diana’s and keeping it there for the rest of the elevator ride.

In the privacy of the evidence room, away from their respective coworkers, Diana and Emily could talk more openly. “So, I take it your boss knows about us,” Emily said nervously as she followed Diana to a tall stack of file boxes.

“Well, yeah, Peter knows,” Diana said, “I take it your boss doesn’t.”

“No,” Emily admitted quietly, looking down into one of the boxes.

“Okay, then. I guess we’re keeping things quiet while you’re here,” Diana said, as they started sorting through the mountain of evidence that made up the paper trail.

“I hope you don’t mind—” Emily began.

“No, it’s totally fine,” Diana insisted.

“Okay,” Emily said, “Um, I’m just wondering, exactly _how much_ does Peter know about me?”

“Well, I told him we’d have dinner with him and his wife tonight,” Diana said, looking up at Emily with a teasing smile.

“What—seriously?! Diana, I—”

Diana laughed. “I’m kidding,” she said, gently placing a hand on Emily’s arm, “Although you’d like Elizabeth; she’s lovely.”

“I’m sure she is, but I have no idea how I’d explain it to my team,” Emily said.

Diana took a deep breath and tightened her grip on Emily’s arm. “Babe, I thought you said you were going to come out to them,” she said softly.

“I _am_ ,” Emily insisted, pulling herself away from Diana.

“Hey, Em, I’m sorry,” Diana said, “I didn’t mean—it’s your decision, and I know I shouldn’t pressure you; it’s just…It’s just that you spend so much of your life with these people, and the fact that you haven’t told them about me, about us, about this whole side of yourself…”

“I know,” Emily said sadly, “I really, really want to; it’s just…”

“Yeah, I know, baby,” Diana said, gently cupping Emily’s cheek and giving her a sympathetic smile.

“I _will_ come out to them,” Emily said, “I promise.”

“Don’t promise me,” Diana told her, “Promise yourself.”

Emily sighed and returned to her evidence box, but Diana’s hand soon grabbed her wrist and stopped her.

“Hey, come here,” Diana whispered, whisking her behind a row of shelves and pulling her in close.

“Aren’t there cameras in the evidence room?” Emily asked as Diana’s arms circled her waist. She reached a hand up and stroked Diana’s cheek.

“This is a blind spot,” Diana said with a smile. She leaned in and kissed her girlfriend with all the love and passion she’d been holding inside during the weeks they’d been apart. Emily moaned softly as she felt Diana’s tongue slide into her mouth. Oh, god, she’d missed this feeling. Physically, she might have been standing in a grim FBI evidence room, but kissing Diana always made her feel like she was on cloud nine.

Diana pulled back from the kiss. “Hey,” she said with a soft smile as she gently pushed Emily’s hair behind her ear, “I missed you. It’s good to see you.”

Emily smiled back. “I missed you, too.” They gazed at each other lovingly for a few more moments before Peter’s voice interrupted them.

“Diana?” he called as he opened the door to the evidence room.

Diana straightened her jacket and cleared her throat. “Yeah, hey, boss,” she said.

Peter smirked as he saw Diana and Emily emerge from the camera blind spot. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he said teasingly.

“Oh, no, not at all,” Diana lied.

“Yeah, okay,” Peter said, “Just so you know, Hotchner’s going to be joining us in a few minutes, so whatever work you guys _weren’t_ doing down here by yourselves, you should start doing it now.”

Diana smiled. “Thanks, Peter.”

Hotch, Peter, Emily, and Diana combed through the paper trail well into the evening. Hotch, with his years of profiling work, could tell that there was something going on between the two women, but he wasn’t going to pry. Emily would come out to the team on her own time, he told himself, although it wasn’t like the team didn’t already know. Really, she’d just be confirming the suspicions they’d all held for quite some time now.

Night fell, and Burke sent his team home to get some rest. The BAU team piled into their SUVs and checked into their hotel. Once they’d settled in, Emily managed to sneak Diana up to her room. It had been too long since they’d seen each other, and fuck it, they weren’t going to pass up an opportunity to spend a night together in a nice hotel room. Emily roused herself from their post-coital cuddle to set an alarm for the morning.

“Five o’clock? Seriously?” Diana protested when she saw the time Emily was setting the alarm for.

“Hotch wakes up early,” Emily said apologetically, “His room is on this floor.”

Diana rolled her eyes and pulled Emily back into the cuddle. “Okay, fine,” she said, “I’ll help you keep your secret and sneak out before anyone can see me. Although, honestly, Em, from everything you’ve told me about your team, would it really be so bad if they found out?”

“Probably not,” Emily admitted, “But I don’t want them to find out like this.”

“That’s fair,” Diana said. She kissed Emily’s cheek and nestled in close against her back, one arm slung across Emily’s ribs. They drifted off to sleep in the soft hotel bed, and in the early hours of the morning, Diana snuck out of the hotel unnoticed.

Emily and Diana resumed their professional covers when the BAU team and the White Collar Crimes team met again in the conference room the next morning to begin their second day on the case. They still had an unsub to catch, and it seemed he was becoming more and more reckless and unhinged with his crimes. In addition to combing through the paper trail and interviewing victims, Hotch thought it best to have agents stake out a few of the locations they thought the unsub might be using as storage or safehouses.

“Sorry you got stuck with me in the van,” Emily said to Jones. They were staking out a warehouse together, and had been there for the better part of an hour.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Jones said, “I practically live in the van. Besides, it gives me a chance to vet the girlfriend.”

“Oh, right,” Emily laughed, “Well, let’s see: I’m an only child; I grew up all over the world—my parents are diplomats, so Diana and I have that in common. I went to Georgetown for undergrad and got my master’s at Yale, joined the Bureau in ’96, and worked mainly out of the Midwest until I joined the BAU.”

“Yeah, uh, I already knew all of that,” Jones said with a smile.

“You did your homework,” she remarked.

“I may have,” he replied.

“So, then, what you really want to know is, what are my intentions towards your daughter?” she joked.

“Whoa, whoa, please!” he objected, “Little sister.”

Emily laughed. “You know, I already had this conversation with Diana’s _actual_ brother, and I passed with flying colors,” she said.

“Yeah, but here’s your chance to get the official Clinton Jones stamp of approval,” Jones replied.

“Okay, let’s go,” Emily said.

“What’s your favorite thing about Diana?” Jones asked.

Emily smiled. “Her conviction. She knows who she is and what she believes in, and everything she does, she does with purpose. Also her sense of humor.”

“You know what she’s allergic to?”

“Pistachios.”

“You plan on staying in D.C. permanently?”

“Maybe. My parents are there. So are Diana’s.”

“How do you feel about New York?”

“I like it; I might even consider moving here if Diana asked me to.”

“Well, I gotta say, Emily,” Jones said, “You’re doing pretty well so far.”

Emily smiled. “Thanks.”

“How about marriage? Kids?” Jones asked.

Emily cleared her throat. “I am not married, and I have no children,” she deflected.

“You know what I mean,” Jones said.

“I do,” Emily replied, “Um, well, we currently _can’t_ get married in New York or D.C., but if we could, I mean…Diana and I have discussed it. Kids, too.”

“And?” Jones asked.

Emily sighed. “It’s…on the table, but as of right now there are no concrete plans, and as long as we’re living in two different cities, those seem like topics for the more distant future.”

“Yeah, you might want to think about moving those conversations up a bit,” Jones told her.

“Wait, what?” Emily stammered, “Do you-Do you know something, Jones?”

“I know you and Diana have been together a pretty long time,” he said, “And it kind of seems like she’s getting a little tired of waiting to take the next step.”

“She talks to you about us?” Emily asked.

Jones shrugged. “Not a whole lot else to do here in the van.”

Emily opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Jones noticing something on the screen and putting his headphones back on.

“Oh, shit, I think we’ve got movement in the warehouse!” he exclaimed, “Let Burke and Hotchner know.”

Back at the FBI offices, Emily managed to pull Diana away from both their teams for a private moment. “Hey, sweetie, are you…okay, you know, with everything that’s going on?” she asked nervously.

Diana looked puzzled. “I’m assuming you’re not referring to the conman currently on a crime spree in my city,” she said.

“No, I mean this—us,” Emily said.

“Honey, I told you, it’s fine. They’re _your_ team, so whatever you need to do right now…”

“No, not just that,” Emily said softly, “Diana, are you…happy?”

Diana took Emily’s hand and gazed into her eyes. “Oh, Emily, baby, did you think I wasn’t?”

“I don’t know…” Emily said, looking down and avoiding Diana’s eyes, “I just get the feeling that there’s more to it than me not being out to my team. And then I was talking to Jones today, and—”

“Jones needs to keep his mouth shut,” Diana said, raising an eyebrow and folding her arms across her chest.

“Sweetheart, I need you to be honest with me,” Emily said, still looking down, “Are you upset that I haven’t told my team about you?” She looked up and saw Diana twirling the ends of her hair around her fingers. She only ever did that when she was nervous.

“Honestly?” Diana said, “Yes, it upsets me. It makes me feel like you’re trying to keep me separate from the rest of your life instead of trying to build a life _with_ me. And maybe that was fine when we were first dating, but we’ve been doing this whole ‘separate lives’ thing for almost two years now, and it’s really starting to get old.”

“Diana, honey, what are you saying?” Emily asked nervously.

Diana shoved her hands in her pockets and shrugged. “I didn’t want to mention anything yet because I thought I might be getting ahead of myself,” she said, grinding the toe of her boot into the ground, “But there’s an opening in D.C. Art Crimes. Peter said he’d put in a good word for me.”

Emily’s mouth fell open slightly. “Baby, you’d transfer to Washington?”

“I want to be with you, Em,” Diana said, “Full-time. But not if I’m going to be your dirty little secret; I want to be your partner.”

Emily nodded. “You deserve that.” She took Diana by the hand. “Come with me,” she said, and led Diana back to the White Collar offices.

The BAU team was seated around a table discussing the case over takeout. Emily took a deep breath and rolled her neck before approaching the table, Diana in tow, and clearing her throat to get the team’s attention.

“Hey, guys,” she said, “I have something I need to tell you all, and I know that now’s probably not the best time to do this—you know, what with there being an active case and all, but I’ve been keeping this from you for way too long, and, I mean, you guys are like my family, so…” She closed her eyes and exhaled sharply. “I’m a lesbian,” she finally said, “Agent Barrigan is my girlfriend; we’ve been together for almost two years now.” She turned her head to look at Diana, who was smiling at her, full of pride. “And I am madly in love with this woman. And I’ve never been happier in my life.” She turned back to face her team and saw them all looking at her with unsurprised smiles.

“Good for you, Prentiss,” Morgan said, “We love you, girl.”

“Join us for dinner?” JJ asked, “Both of you.”

Emily and Diana pulled up chairs at the table and were handed plates and napkins and cutlery to share in the takeout feast. At first, the team wanted to know about Diana—where she was from, how she’d ended up in the FBI, how she and Emily first met—but the conversation soon returned to the subject of the case. Emily was amazed at how _normal_ it all felt, eating takeout and talking shop with her girlfriend and her team. A smile spread across her face as she realized that this was everything she’d wanted: friends she loved, a job she loved, and a partner she loved so deeply and purely and unconditionally—all right here in the same place. Her hand found Diana’s under the table and gave it a loving squeeze, and she beamed with pride watching her girlfriend hold her own with the notorious Dr. Reid. _This_ was the happiest she’d ever been in her life, and she knew right then and there that she never wanted to let any part of this go.

With the unsub caught and the case closed, the BAU team packed their bags and loaded up the cars to head home. Diana had come by to see them off on their way. Emily leaned in and gave her a quick kiss goodbye—right in front of her whole team—before climbing into the SUV.

“You realize you _will_ be spending the entire plane ride home telling us absolutely everything about her,” Morgan said as he started the engine.

“Oh, god,” Emily groaned, “Please don’t make me regret coming out to you.”


	19. You’d Be So Nice to Come Home To

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I ended up really liking this pairing a lot more than I originally anticipated. This is a follow-up to the previous chapter, and sees Emily and Diana finally move in together. Emily Prentiss/Diana Barrigan (Criminal Minds, White Collar), rated E.

“That’s the last box,” Diana said as she lowered the box to the ground and stood up straight to face her girlfriend. There was still lots of unpacking to do, but everything Diana owned had completed its journey from New York to Washington, D.C., and now sat in a stack of boxes against the back wall of the living room she now shared with Emily.

“You officially live here now,” Emily said, crossing the living room to Diana and draping her arms around her girlfriend’s neck.

Diana placed her hands on Emily’s hips and pulled her in close. “I live here now,” she said, and planted a kiss on Emily’s lips.

Emily gently laid a hand on Diana’s cheek. “I think that calls for a celebration,” she said, and set off for the kitchen to fetch two champagne flutes and the bottle she’d bought to mark the occasion. After two years of being in a long-distance relationship, Emily and Diana were finally living in the same city, in the same apartment. They both cried out in delight when Emily popped the cork and let the champagne bubble over. Emily poured the champagne into the flutes and handed one to Diana.

“To new jobs and new beginnings,” Diana said.

“And to Peter Burke, for making it all possible,” Emily added. They clinked glasses and drank.

Diana put her champagne flute down on the counter and returned to the living room to start unpacking. Emily followed her, and stopped her before she’d managed to open a single box. She wrapped her arms around Diana’s waist from behind and nuzzled her cheek against Diana’s neck.

“Later, baby,” Emily pleaded, “You just got here. There’s plenty of time to take care of all this.”

Diana turned around in Emily’s arms to face her girlfriend. “There’ll be plenty of time for this, too,” she said, reaching up and snaking a hand around the back of Emily’s head. She pulled her in for a quick kiss, then said, “But we probably _should_ get the unpacking out of the way first, don’t you think?”

“I think we’ve been waiting a long time to be together like this,” Emily said with a slight pout, “And I want to start enjoying it now.”

Diana smiled and cupped Emily’s cheek. “Well, how can I possibly argue with that?” she said, and kissed Emily sweetly and tenderly.

Emily took Diana’s hand and led her to the couch, where they both kicked off their shoes and snuggled up together. Emily leaned against the armrest, one long, slender leg stretched out along the length of the couch. Diana leaned back against Emily’s chest and nestled her head against Emily’s neck, and Emily’s arms wrapped around Diana’s body, pulling her in close. Diana sighed happily and turned her head to look up lovingly at her girlfriend, who leaned down and placed a kiss on Diana’s forehead.

“I think we should get a cat,” Diana said.

“Because you don’t think we’re sufficiently gay already?” Emily teased.

“Oh, come on, Em,” Diana said, “It would be nice. A cute little kitty cat. And we could call him something fun, like Peanut or Doctor Whiskers or Sergio.”

“Sergio?” Emily laughed, “Okay, we can get a cat, but only if we call him Sergio.” She tilted her head down, and her lips found Diana’s in a gentle kiss. Diana snaked an arm around Emily’s neck and pulled her in closer, deepening the kiss.

“I love you, baby,” Diana said.

“I love you, too,” Emily replied.

Diana turned around so she was face to face with Emily. “I _don’t_ love this paint color, though,” she said, looking around at the living room walls.

Emily sat up straight and scoffed in mock indignation. “You’ve lived here for all of half an hour, and you’re already redecorating?”

“I’m just saying,” Diana said, reaching out and running a hand over Emily’s shoulder, “If we ever _do_ decide to redecorate, I might have some ideas.”

“Yeah, okay,” Emily laughed. She smiled softly at Diana. “Come here,” she murmured, pulling Diana onto her lap, “We have the rest of our lives to argue over paint colors.”

“The rest of our lives,” Diana repeated quietly as she wrapped her arms around Emily’s neck and straddled her legs on either side of Emily’s hips, “I like the sound of that.” She caught Emily’s lips in a searing, passionate kiss, and whimpered softly as Emily’s tongue slid easily into her mouth. Emily slid her hands up under Diana’s shirt and lavished kisses along her neck. Diana tangled her fingers in Emily’s hair and hissed. They’d only just begun, but Diana was already starting to feel that pleasant ache between her legs. She felt Emily’s soft hands on her bare torso, pushing her shirt up, and she leaned back to take it off all the way before crashing her lips back into her girlfriend’s in a bruising kiss. Emily wrapped her arms tight around Diana’s back and flipped her down onto the couch beneath her. She ran her hands over the lavender nylon of Diana’s bra, teasing at her nipples through the fabric as Diana bucked her hips up against Emily’s thigh. Emily leaned down and captured Diana’s mouth, and their tongues sparred with each other hungrily. She nestled one leg right at the apex of Diana’s thighs and ground her body down against the smooth skin of her girlfriend’s bare torso, savoring the sensation. Diana bit down on Emily’s lower lip, eliciting a tantalizing moan that sent a surge of heat between Diana’s thighs. Oh, god, she was already wet, and so desperate for more of this, more of Emily.

“I want you to take me right here,” she whispered in Emily’s ear. Emily felt her spine tingle at Diana’s words, and she groaned against Diana’s neck.

“Oh, I have been dreaming about this, baby,” Emily purred, meeting Diana’s eyes in a smoldering gaze, “I finally get to fuck you in our new home.”

Diana chuckled. “We’ve had sex in your apartment before, Emily,” she pointed out, “A _lot_ of sex.”

“ _Our_ apartment,” Emily corrected as she stroked Diana’s cheek, “I want to have sex with you in _our_ apartment.” She sat up to unzip Diana’s jeans and pulled them off, along with her underwear. Diana kicked her legs free of her pants and underwear, and toed her socks off along with them before reaching up to kiss Emily again.

“Make me come in _our_ apartment,” she husked.

Emily knelt down in front of the couch. She placed a hand firmly on each of Diana’s knees and pushed them apart before smiling up at her girlfriend, who was quivering in anticipation above her. Emily gently ran her fingers along Diana’s toned legs and nipped at the inside of her thigh before swirling her tongue over Diana’s pussy in broad, slow strokes, like she was painting it. Diana let her head fall back and moaned softly at the intoxicating feeling of Emily’s mouth on her pussy, her tongue moving _just so_. Diana was already coming undone, and Emily was loving every second of it. She took Diana’s clit into her mouth and suckled gently, grazing her tongue against the underside in the way that always drove Diana wild. Diana closed her eyes and gripped the armchair of the couch, keening and writhing in pleasure as Emily’s skillful mouth brought her closer and closer. Emily squeezed her own thighs together; she was already getting wet just listening to Diana.

“Oh, god, that’s it!” Diana whined as her orgasm coursed through her. Emily curled a finger against Diana’s g-spot, drawing out her orgasm and reducing her to a quivering, whimpering mess above her. Emily slowed her movements and gradually pulled back from Diana, gently caressing her girlfriend’s toned thighs as she came down from her orgasm. Diana reached a shaky hand down and brushed Emily’s bangs aside before tilting her chin up and looking deep into Emily’s exquisite brown eyes. She blinked slowly and smiled down at Emily, who was staring up at her in complete reverence. Once her legs were steady enough she rose from the couch, pulling Emily up with her, and wrapped her arms around Emily’s waist.

“You’re amazing, Emily Prentiss,” she murmured against Emily’s neck, “And I’m going to make you come over and over again. I’m going to fuck you until your pussy is throbbing and you’re screaming my name.” Diana’s words sent shivers down Emily’s spine, and she felt herself growing incredibly wet already.

“Take me to bed,” she whispered in Diana’s ear.

Diana tilted Emily’s chin up and whispered, “ _Our_ bed,” before meeting her girlfriend’s lips in a searing kiss. She led Emily into the bedroom, and Emily drank in the sight of Diana walking a few steps ahead of her, still glowing from her orgasm and clad in nothing but her lavender bra.

Once inside the bedroom— _their_ bedroom—Diana pulled Emily’s tank top up over her head and pressed skin against skin as she pulled Emily in close and slid her tongue into Emily’s mouth. Emily whimpered softly as her hands roamed over Diana’s body.

“Take these off,” Diana husked, pawing at the waistband of Emily’s pants. Emily happily complied, and removed her pants along with her socks. The sight of Emily in her black lace bra and dark red underwear was enough to fill Diana with lust, and she grabbed Emily by the hips, guiding her to the mattress and pushing her down onto it. She climbed onto Emily’s lap and kissed her with a desperate hunger. Her hands reached around to unhook Emily’s bra before reaching back to remove her own.

“Lie back,” she whispered with a gentle push of Emily’s shoulder. Emily locked eyes with Diana as she sank back into the mattress and shuffled up towards the head of the bed. She reached a hand up to stroke Diana’s cheek and smiled, and Diana’s heart skipped a beat when she saw those irresistible dimples. She hooked her fingers under the waistband of Emily’s already damp underwear and pulled them down over the smooth skin of her long, long legs before crawling on top of her and tilting her head down for another passionate kiss.

“You really are incredibly beautiful,” she murmured as she grazed her hands over Emily’s body, paying extra attention to her round, full breasts and taut nipples. She slid a hand down between Emily’s thighs and found her hot and slick and ready for Diana’s touch. Emily whined as Diana’s fingers stroked her with the lightest of touches, making her wet and wild and desperate for more. Diana stopped her teasing and finally touched Emily where she needed it most, pressing her fingers against Emily’s clit and moving them _just right._ Emily let out a long, low, guttural moan that made Diana’s head spin.

“Fuck, you feel so good, Em,” she husked, and mashed her lips against Emily’s collarbone. She kissed her way down to Emily’s breasts as her fingers continued working Emily’s clit. She took one of Emily’s hard nipples into her mouth and bit down gently, and Emily arched her back into Diana’s mouth and hissed.

“Inside,” Emily gasped desperately, “I want your fingers inside me.” Diana slammed two fingers into Emily and thrust them in and out, curling them against Emily’s g-spot as her thumb applied pressure to Emily’s clit just the way she liked, and her tongue swirled over Emily’s nipples.

“Diana,” Emily whined, “Fuck, Diana, I’m so close.”

“Come for me, baby,” Diana groaned, “That’s it, good girl, Em.” Emily clenched around Diana’s fingers and whined as her orgasm washed over her in waves of ecstasy.

“Oh, that was incredible,” Emily whispered as she caught her breath and came down from her high. She ran her fingers down Diana’s bicep and tried to pull her in for a cuddle, but Diana resisted.

“Oh, no,” she said with a mischievous grin, “I’m not done with you yet, Emily. I’m going to make you come over and over again, remember?” She leaned down and gave Emily a quick kiss. “Are you ready to come again?”

Emily licked her lips and nodded. “God, yes.”

Diana smiled. “That’s my girl,” she purred. She bent Emily’s knees and spread them apart, positioning herself between Emily’s quaking thighs. Her tongue zigzagged its way up and down Emily’s pussy before settling on her clit and beginning a rhythm of fast, tight circles. Diana savored the taste of her—god, Emily tasted so good—as she writhed and whimpered on the bed above her. Emily was so pliant, so ready to fall apart for her. She moaned against Emily’s pussy, which sent Emily tumbling over the edge again as she came with a sharp hiss.

Diana _still_ wasn’t done. She kept her tongue on Emily’s clit and slowly eased her fingers into Emily’s pussy, gently stroking her g-spot. Emily gripped the sheets as hard as she could and moaned Diana’s name over and over again as another, even stronger orgasm took hold of her. Her whole body trembled with ecstasy, and she felt like she was on fire as she tightened around Diana’s fingers in violent spasms.

“Diana, stop,” she gasped, “I’m done; I’m done.” Diana pulled back from Emily and let her catch her breath, and Emily looked down at her with a sly smile. “You have successfully fucked me into oblivion, you insatiable goddess,” she teased. Diana laughed and sat back up. She planted one knee on either side of Emily’s hips and leaned down to kiss her gently, letting her taste herself in the kiss. Emily slowly blinked her eyes open and smiled up at Diana, and oh, god, there were those dimples again. Diana was all but ready to lose herself in Emily’s gorgeous brown eyes when she felt a pair of soft, warm hands firmly grasp the backs of her thighs, giving Emily leverage as she shuffled down the bed.

“Emily…” Diana began breathlessly when she realized what was happening.

“Come here,” Emily husked.

Diana moved up the bed and straddled Emily’s face. “You okay, babe?” she asked tentatively.

“I’m right where I want to be,” Emily replied.

Emily wrapped her hands around Diana’s thighs as Diana carefully lowered herself down. Emily darted her tongue out and began lapping up Diana’s juices, drinking in the delicious taste of her. Diana’s breath hitched as Emily’s nimble tongue devoured her. She was already aroused from getting Emily off, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before she came. She summoned all her strength and tried to hold out—she wanted to _savor_ this moment—but then Emily started sucking on her clit, and she was powerless. She arched her back and moaned as her orgasm surged through her body like electric current.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Diana groaned as she moved off of Emily’s face and settled back down on the bed.

“At least you’ll die a happy woman,” Emily deadpanned as she snuggled up next to her girlfriend and planted a kiss on her cheek.

Diana lay on her back with Emily nuzzled up against her shoulder, an arm and a leg draped over her girlfriend’s body as she traced her fingers along Diana’s collarbone. Her long eyelashes brushed against Diana’s neck each time she blinked with a feather-light tickle that sent delicious shivers down Diana’s spine. Diana raked her fingers through Emily’s silky black hair, slowly massaging her scalp, and turned her head to place a gentle kiss on Emily’s forehead before gazing back up at the ceiling.

“Emily?” she said.

“Hmmm?” Emily responded, tilting her head to look up at her girlfriend.

“I just realized why we should have unpacked first,” Diana said, “All my clothes are still in boxes.”


	20. The Good Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Reyes sustains some injuries in the field, she and Scully have a chance to play doctor. Dana Scully/Monica Reyes (The X-Files), rated M.

Monica winced as the antiseptic stung her. She bit the inside of her mouth and breathed deeply, trying not to let on that she was in pain. Not that it mattered, really, but for some barely rational, inexplicable reason she just felt like showing off for Dana just how brave and stoic she could be—as if _that_ would impress Dana into sleeping with her; as if Dana even _needed_ to be impressed into sleeping with her. They both knew where this evening would end up, regardless of Monica’s ability to endure pain without flinching.

Dana seemed to pick up on Monica’s discomfort and attempts to hide it. “You’re doing great, Monica,” she offered encouragingly, “A model patient.”

Monica rolled her eyes and managed to get out through gritted teeth, “Yeah, right, I’m sure I am.”

Dana looked up from the wound on Monica’s forearm and into the brown eyes she loved so much. She stopped cleaning the cut long enough to plant a tender kiss on Monica’s forehead. “You’re just lucky I’m a medical doctor,” she said, “Otherwise John _definitely_ would have made you go to the emergency room.”

Sitting on Dana’s kitchen table was definitely preferable to sitting in some grim hospital room, and she’d much rather have Dana’s hands on her than some overworked ER doctor’s. She loved the feeling of Dana’s hands on her body; it didn’t matter whether they were patching up her wounds or bringing her to orgasm or gently, lovingly stroking her back until she drifted off to sleep. She relished the thought that tonight, Dana’s hands would do all three.

“You should really get a tetanus shot,” Dana mused as she finished bandaging the cut on Monica’s arm.

“I will,” Monica sighed.

Dana gently tilted Monica’s chin up and looked her in the eyes. “Promise?” she asked.

“I promise,” Monica said.

Dana kissed her lightly. “Good girl.”

Dana cleaned up her medical supplies and removed her gloves before returning to Monica with a small flashlight which she shined in the brunette’s dark eyes, checking her pupils for response. She was standing between Monica’s knees, close enough that she got a tantalizing whiff of strawberry-scented shampoo and had to remind herself to focus on the medical task at hand.

“No signs of concussion,” Dana said, “Looks like you got lucky.” A hand reached out and grazed lightly along her arm.

“If I have a clean bill of health, it might be you who gets lucky,” Monica teased.

Dana chuckled and kissed Monica’s hairline. “You’re a shameless flirt,” she said with a gentle smile, then turned back to pack up the rest of her medical kit.

“There is one more thing I think you should take a look at, Dr. Scully,” Monica said. Dana turned around to see Monica unbuttoning her blouse and looking up at her coquettishly. She smiled and stepped in closer to the teasing brunette.

“Well I don’t see any obvious signs of injury,” Dana said coyly, “But maybe I should palpate the area just to make sure…”

Dana kneaded Monica’s breasts over the fabric of her bra as she caught the brunette’s lips in a passionate kiss. Monica’s hands reached up and cupped Dana’s face, and she pushed the redhead’s lips apart with her tongue. They kissed deeply and wildly, Dana’s hands never leaving Monica’s breasts. Monica’s legs wrapped around Dana’s body and pulled her in close; strong, toned thighs holding her in an impossibly tight grip. Dana could practically feel the tension radiating from between Monica’s legs. She’d have to do something about that, she thought. Monica broke the kiss and let out a soft, gentle moan, then began lavishing wet, sloppy kisses along Dana’s neck. She grabbed a handful of ginger hair and tugged, exposing more of Dana’s neck and eliciting a sharp hiss, and she dragged her tongue up to Dana’s pulse point before giving it a playful nip. _Fuck,_ this woman knew just how to drive Dana wild.

“Bedroom. Now,” Dana husked. She pulled back and raised an eyebrow slyly at Monica. “Doctor’s orders.”


	21. Adagio for Strings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was just supposed to be a little fun, no-strings sex between coworkers, but a frightening experience forces Emily and Alex to confront the true nature of their relationship. For the purposes of this fic, Emily never went to London, and is still at the BAU when Alex joins the team. Set during and after S9E20, “Blood Relations.” Emily Prentiss/Alex Blake (Criminal Minds), rated M.

You weren’t supposed to sleep with your coworkers; Emily knew that. And you _definitely_ weren’t supposed to sleep with your married, mostly straight, not even a little bit out of the closet coworkers, especially when you both spent your days with a team of highly skilled profilers. Still, the past six months of sleeping with Alex Blake had been some of the happiest of Emily’s life.

It wasn’t a _relationship_ —they’d both made that very clear. Alex and James might have had a somewhat unconventional marriage, but they certainly weren’t _that_ unconventional. Besides, Emily had no interest in being tied down; hell, she couldn’t even commit to buying a house. She and Alex simply enjoyed each other’s company, and they enjoyed a lot _more_ of each other’s company whenever James was away. They got along remarkably well, Emily and Alex, and it was just fun and easy, and they both needed that. Sure, Alex slept way, way better in Emily’s bed than in the big, empty house that reminded her of the life she’d thought she wanted with James. And yes, Emily—private, guarded, fiercely independent Emily—opened up more easily to Alex than she ever had to anyone in her life, so easily, in fact, that she shocked and occasionally scared herself. But even if Alex could picture sharing with Emily the life she thought she’d be sharing with James, and even if lazy mornings in bed with Alex often made Emily think that just maybe being tied down to the _right person_ could feel more freeing than restrictive, whatever was going on between the two of them, it definitely _wasn’t_ a relationship. They were simply friends with benefits—incredibly close, intimate, devoted friends with the benefit of insanely hot, mind-blowing, life-affirming sex whenever they got the chance. Still, it was just a casual, no-strings arrangement, and they both knew that. They both wanted that, so why were they both starting to feel like it wasn’t enough?

The West Virginia case began like any other. Emily and Alex strategically staggered their arrival times at the office and went about their morning. They were careful to keep some physical distance, both from each other and from the rest of the team, lest anyone notice that Alex had used Emily’s shampoo again. The team gathered in the conference room like always for the initial case briefing, followed by Hotch’s signature “Wheels up” and a short plane ride to Wheeling, West Virginia. The case was gruesome and twisted, but weren’t they all? And at first glance, it seemed the only remarkable thing about this case was the fact that by some purely random stroke of blessed luck, Emily and Alex had been given adjoining motel rooms.

Normally they wouldn’t dare sleep together while on a case—too risky, especially given the nature of their work and the perceptiveness of the team. But here, at a rundown motel in the middle of nowhere, with only a flimsy door with a broken lock separating them and a vacant room on the other side of Emily’s, Alex looked around her room, with its burnt out lights and lumpy, uncomfortable bed, and she knew she wouldn’t be sleeping here. She knocked tentatively on the door between them, and it swung open to reveal Emily in a tank top and running shorts.

“Hey,” Alex said with a shy smile, “Mind if I come in?”

“Not at all,” Emily replied, “I’d love some company.”

Then their lips were on each other’s as their hands roamed each other’s bodies and articles of clothing fell to the floor one by one. Emily’s lips found their way to the spot on Alex’ neck that always drove her wild, and Alex gasped as she felt that fire in her belly that told her she might burst if she didn’t have Emily’s fingers inside her soon. She guided Emily across the room to the bed, and they collapsed onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs. Alex let out a moan at the feeling of Emily’s body on top of hers. Emily yanked away and sat up straight.

“See, this is why we don’t have sex on cases,” Emily laughed.

“What? No, come on,” Alex pleaded, “We’re being _so_ discreet.”

“Are you sure you can be quiet, Alex?” Emily husked as she sank back down and rested her chin between the older woman’s breasts.

“I promise,” Alex said.

“Good,” Emily whispered, and began kissing her way down. Even in a shitty motel room, sex with Emily was a luscious, heavenly experience. Pleasure coursed through Alex’ veins as Emily touched her _just right_ , sending her soaring over the edge in delicious ecstasy. It took everything she had not to scream out Emily’s name as a second orgasm washed over her, making her whole body shake. When it was Alex’ turn, she took her time reveling in the intoxicating feeling of Emily’s body and the way she responded so wonderfully to Alex’ touch. She’d only slept with one other woman before Emily, a brief college experiment that was enjoyable enough, but didn’t inspire any big sexual revelations. With Emily, though, she was learning something new about herself. The first time she’d gone down on Emily, she’d been surprised and overwhelmed by just how much she _liked_ it. Emily’s taste was addictive; she felt so good against Alex’ tongue, and the way she writhed and panted made Alex more aroused than she’d thought possible. She reached down and touched herself as the younger brunette’s quiet, desperate gasps and whispered expletives told Alex she was close. Alex Blake was a fairly well-traveled woman, but her favorite place in the world was right here between Emily Prentiss’ legs.

They showered together in Alex’ marginally less gross shower before returning to Emily’s room to snuggle up under the threadbare comforter and fall asleep to the rhythmic sounds of each other’s breathing. Being wrapped up safe in Alex’ arms felt so good, it made Emily forget all about the case and the dismal accommodations. Only Alex could make a roadside motel in rural West Virginia feel like heaven on earth. She rested her head against Alex’ chest and felt the steady, comforting rhythm of the older woman’s heartbeat, and it filled Emily with such perfect contentment that she nearly started to cry. She couldn’t help it; she let herself imagine Alex’ heart belonging to her and her alone, picturing the two of them growing old together as she drifted off to sleep.

The following day, they went back to their charade of being just coworkers as the team continued to work the case. The unsub had killed a third victim the night before, and they were back to square one with their profile. A trip to Malachi Lee’s farm had resulted in gunfire, but it also ruled out meth dealing as a factor in the case. Night fell again, and the case continued the next day with the team following more unsuccessful leads. Alex eventually made the connection that Cissy Howard was born Magdalene Lee, and that she’d left home after giving birth to a child she conceived with her brother, Malachi. The child was their unsub, and he’d kidnapped Cissy from her home the previous night. The team geared up to go find their unsub in the remote cabin where he’d been raised by his adoptive mother.

“What are we walking into?” Rossi asked, “We’ve already been shot at by the locals once.”

They loaded up into the SUVs and drove to the cabin. Emily stealthily brushed her hand against Alex’ in the backseat. Neither Rossi nor Morgan noticed the exchange of glances—gently scolding from Alex, coyly apologetic from Emily—that followed. Their secret was still safe. They cautiously approached the cabin, flashlights and guns drawn, and as the SWAT team opened the door, a giant, medieval spiked weapon swung down from the ceiling, impaling one of the officers. They fell back and regrouped, realizing the cabin was a trap, and the unsub had already escaped. Derek insisted on splitting up to cover more ground. He and Emily went off in one direction, and Alex, alone, went off in the opposite.

“I have eyes on Cissy; he’s got her rigged to a tree,” Alex said quietly into her walkie talkie.

“Do not approach. She could be bait,” she heard Morgan reply over the static of the airwaves, “I’m on my way.”

Before Alex could respond, she felt herself being thrown to the ground in a violent tackle, and she crashed into the water below. She fired her gun into the air as she struggled with the unsub, who plunged her under the water and held her down. She coughed and gasped and fought desperately to stay alive. Fear coursed through her, stronger than anything she’d ever felt before, and she prayed to a God she wasn’t even sure she believed in, begging for it not to end this way. The team, hearing the gunshots, rushed to the water’s edge, shining flashlights and calling Alex’ name. Alex could hear them, but she couldn’t respond. Emily opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Her body trembled, and her knees buckled, and she choked back vomit as the seconds ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity.

Alex finally emerged from the water. “Start shooting! Start shooting!” she gasped as she grabbed Emily’s hand to pull herself up onto dry land, while the rest of the team fired into the water. Emily crouched down and cradled Alex in her arms, not caring if the team saw. Tears welled in her eyes as she watched Alex catch her breath.

“Where’s the body?” Alex asked her, her eyes full of fear, “Where is he?”

“Shhhh, Alex, just breathe,” Emily soothed, stroking Alex’ wet, muddy hairline, “I’m sure we got him.”

Their eyes met, and it took all the strength they both had not to kiss each other passionately right then and there. Instead, Emily helped Alex to her feet, gave her arm an affectionate squeeze, and led her back to the SUV. Once she closed the door with Alex safely inside, she could finally exhale, but she blinked back her tears, not wanting anyone, including Alex— _especially_ Alex—to see just how emotional she was right now. Her hands still trembled as she took down the pushpins from the case board back at the station. She chided herself for being so worked up over a momentary fear that she might lose a woman who wasn’t even _hers._ She was getting attached, and she knew it, and to be honest, a big part of her didn’t even care, but Alex…Alex was married, and she’d been very clear from the beginning about expectations. Emily had to remind herself that while it was fine to be worried about Alex and relieved that she was okay, nothing that had happened would change the fact that they’d said no strings.

Alex walked back into the bullpen in clean, dry clothes. Emily’s eyes shot up to look at her, and she felt a powerful urge to run over to Alex and wrap her arms around her and never let go. She so desperately wanted to comfort Alex, hold her close, kiss away all the bad memories of the past few hours. But they were in public, and besides, JJ got to Alex first.

“How are you doing?” JJ asked kindly.

“My hair smells like a dirty sock,” Alex replied in an attempt to keep it light, “But, other than that, I’m fine.”

“Okay,” JJ said skeptically, “How are you doing?”

Alex shook her head and blinked back tears. “I just—I couldn’t breathe,” she choked out. Emily found herself struggling to breathe as she made eye contact with Alex from across the room. She saw the pain in Alex’ eyes, and it hurt her. Alex longed to go over to Emily, to kiss her, breathe in the scent of her lavender soap, tell her that when she was under the water, all she could think about was _Dear God, don’t let me die without telling Emily I love her._ But they were in public, and besides, JJ was already here. She looked back to the concerned blonde.

“We put 30 bullets into that water,” JJ said.

Alex nodded. “Okay.”

JJ placed a hand on Alex’ arm and gave her a gentle, reassuring rub, and Emily had never felt more jealous of JJ than she did in that moment. “He’s dead, Alex,” JJ assured her, “He’s dead.” She wrapped her arm around Alex’ shoulders and guided her out of the bullpen, away from Emily. Alex looked quickly over her shoulder and gave Emily a soft smile before looking back to JJ. _That should be me,_ Emily thought, _I should be the one with my arm around her._

“Let me give you a ride home, Blake,” Emily said when they got back to Quantico. It was a perfectly innocent, reasonable offer to make in front of the team—Alex had been through hell, and she and Emily only lived fifteen minutes away from each other. The use of Alex’ surname only solidified the innocence and reasonableness of it all. They remained innocent and reasonable until they were off the grounds of the FBI headquarters, when Emily pulled into a convenience store parking lot and finally kissed Alex the way she’d been aching to for hours.

“I was so worried about you,” Emily whispered as she stroked Alex’ cheek.

Alex blinked back tears and smiled softly. “You pulled me out of the water,” she said, “I was so scared, but I knew you’d be there for me.”

“I’m always here for you, Alex,” Emily said with a shrug, trying to sound as friendly and casual as possible.

“I know you are,” Alex whispered. She leaned in and kissed Emily again.

Emily drove to Alex’ house in comfortable silence with one hand resting on Alex’ knee. Once inside, she drew Alex a hot bath, just the way she liked. She repacked Alex’ ready bag and made a cup of Alex’ favorite tea while the other woman soaked in the tub, and she finally allowed herself to cry all the tears she’d been holding in since she first heard Alex’ gun go off and saw the ripples in the water that told her Alex was in danger. She splashed cold water on her face in the downstairs powder room and regained her composure before changing out of her work clothes and into a set of Alex’ pajamas and placing the cup of tea and saucer on the nightstand next to Alex’ preferred side of the bed.

Alex emerged from the en suite bathroom wrapped in a towel. She smiled when she saw the cup of perfectly brewed tea on the nightstand, and Emily sitting on the bed wearing her navy blue pajamas, which Alex couldn’t help but think looked better on Emily, anyway. She walked over to the bed and tilted Emily’s chin up.

“You’re such a sweetheart,” she murmured before planting a gentle kiss on Emily’s lips.

Emily smiled, a concerned, sympathetic half-smile. “Anything else you need?” she asked as she watched Alex throw on a flannel nightshirt and grab the cup and saucer from the nightstand, “Can I get you anything else?”

Alex sat on the bed beside Emily and shook her head. “Hot bath, cup of tea, and you—I’ve got everything I need.”

Emily tilted her head, furrowed her brow, and placed a gentle hand on Alex’ thigh. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, her voice full of concern, “I mean, after everything you went through today…”

“I appreciate your concern, Em, but I really am fine,” Alex assured her, but Emily’s face remained every bit as full of worry. “You still want to talk about what happened, don’t you?” she asked softly, putting the cup and saucer back on the nightstand.

Emily knew she wouldn’t get away with hiding anything from Alex. They might not have been _in a relationship,_ but Alex still knew her way too well for that. She chewed on her bottom lip as she weighed the pros and cons of coming clean to Alex about how she really felt.

“There’s a very real possibility that I’m falling in love with you, Alex,” Emily finally blurted out.

“Oh, Emily,” Alex whispered.

Emily cleared her throat. “Listen, I know we said no strings, but…”

“Maybe strings are good,” Alex said, meeting Emily’s eyes in a loving gaze.

Emily smiled. “Strings are very good.”

Alex leaned forward and kissed Emily passionately, sliding her tongue into the younger woman’s mouth. She pushed Emily down onto the mattress and straddled her hips, kissing her neck as she made quick work of the buttons on her pajama top. She licked and sucked at Emily’s hardening nipples before kissing a trail down the smooth, pale skin of her abdomen. She pulled the pajama pants down along with Emily’s underwear and settled herself in her favorite spot, right between Emily’s thighs. Emily began writhing in pleasure as Alex’ skillful tongue sent waves of ecstasy through her body. God, how could she ever live without this? How did she ever think she could let such a magnificent woman into her life and _not_ fall madly in love with her? She let out a high-pitched whine as she came, and when she finally caught her breath she felt an overpowering need to devour Alex and make her fall apart completely. She flipped the older woman onto her back and kissed her desperately and hungrily. Now that they were no longer in a motel room surrounded by profiling ears, Alex could make as much noise as she wanted, and Emily reveled in the tantalizing moans her touch elicited. Alex came with Emily’s name on her lips as she arched her back up off the bed and trembled in delight.

Emily lay back on the bed and wrapped Alex in her arms. She closed her eyes and let an enormous grin creep across her face as she stroked Alex’ still damp hair and felt the older woman’s breath against her collarbone. Alex curled up against Emily and felt the stress of the day’s events leave her body entirely, replaced by the warm, peaceful feeling of Emily’s embrace. There would be so many things to worry about come the morning—James, the Bureau, navigating a late-in-life coming out—but for now, Emily and Alex were safe and happy in each other’s arms, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also in this version of events, when Alex leaves the BAU to teach full time, she stays at Georgetown instead of moving to Boston, and she and Emily rescue a bunch of dogs and cats and live happily ever after.


	22. Take a Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emily’s trying to work. Fiona has other ideas. I wrote this while, funnily enough, taking a break from writing another, more substantive chapter which I plan to post next. Emily Prentiss/Fiona Duncan (Criminal Minds), rated E.

Fiona studied the pensive lines on Emily’s forehead. The older brunette had been working nonstop for weeks, and now, on her day off, she was working from home. She slumped her shoulders and rubbed her temples as a long, frustrated sigh escaped from her lips. Fiona hated seeing her like this, so stressed out and overworked. Emily’s brief tenure as unit chief had already been marked by one emergency after another: Spencer, Stephen, Scratch…She was hell-bent on doing every aspect of the job perfectly and meeting each new emergency with the kind of steady, coolheaded stoicism Hotch would have shown, but she was burning the candle at both ends, and Fiona knew she couldn’t keep this up much longer.

Fiona stood behind Emily and began massaging her tense shoulders. “You should really take a break,” she said.

“I just had a three-day weekend,” Emily said, keeping her eyes fixed on the file in front of her.

“Em, honey, that was over a month ago,” Fiona gently reminded her.

Emily looked up from her work and turned her head towards Fiona. “Was it really?” she asked, “Shit.”

Fiona nodded and tenderly brushed Emily’s bangs aside. She gazed down into Emily’s beautiful brown eyes and felt a sharp pang at the weariness she saw in them. For as long as Fiona had known her, Emily had always pushed herself so hard to achieve the high expectations she set for herself, but this was different. She was running herself ragged. If Emily wasn’t going to take care of herself, then Fiona would just have to step in and take care of her. She cupped Emily’s chin and leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on her lips before pulling back to look at her with the kind of smoldering gaze that usually told Emily to drop whatever she was doing and focus on her girlfriend. To Fiona’s dismay, Emily just gave her a soft smile and turned back to her work.

Fiona rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “Jesus, Emily,” she said, “What does a girl have to do to get your attention?”

Emily kept her eyes focused on the file in front of her, but reached her had up to Fiona’s and gave it a squeeze. “Sorry, baby,” she said without looking up, “I just have to finish this, and then I’m all yours.”

“You said that three hours ago,” Fiona retorted.

When Emily didn’t respond, Fiona bent over to wrap her arms around Emily and press wet, hot kisses into her neck. She ran her hands over Emily’s torso and slid them under the hem of her threadbare Yale sweatshirt, grazing her fingers against the skin of Emily’s abdomen.

“You’re being very distracting right now, Fiona,” Emily cautioned, tilting her head to allow Fiona better access.

“I know,” Fiona purred, “That’s kind of the point.” She sucked lightly on Emily’s collarbone and slid a hand up to caress her left breast over the sports bra she was wearing. Fiona smiled as Emily’s head fell back with a soft, satisfied hum, and she felt Emily’s nipple tighten under her fingers.

“No,” Emily said suddenly, shaking her head and brushing Fiona’s hand away, “I _really_ need to finish this. I’ll make it up to you later; I promise.”

“ _You’re_ the one who really needs to relax, not me,” Fiona said, sliding her hand out from under Emily’s sweatshirt and placing it on her shoulder. She turned and left the room, and Emily _thought_ she’d now be able to get some work done uninterrupted. She returned her focus to the case at hand, trying her best to ignore the lingering tension between her thighs that Fiona had left her with. Reviewing BAU case files turned out to be a pretty effective mood-killer, and soon enough she forgot all about the feeling of Fiona’s hand on her breast. She furrowed her brow and gnawed on the end of her pen as she worked. Barely ten minutes went by before Fiona came back.

“It’s time to take a break, Emily,” Fiona said authoritatively, reaching her hand down and closing the manila folder on the table.

“What the—Fiona!” Emily began.

She looked up to see Fiona standing in front of her wearing black satin lingerie and looking down at her with a raised eyebrow and a seductive smirk. Emily’s eyes widened as she drank in the sight of the incredibly sexy woman before her. She bit her lip and stood up from her chair, feeling the heat pool between her legs as she grazed her fingertips across Fiona’s waist. Fiona pulled her in close and kissed her, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she pulled away. She cupped Emily’s face in her hands and looked deep into her eyes with an intense, passionate gaze.

“No more work,” Fiona said.

“No more work,” Emily repeated quietly.

Fiona led Emily into the bedroom, where she promptly pulled the older woman in for another passionate kiss. She snaked her hands around Emily’s neck and slid her tongue into her mouth, eliciting a quiet whimper. Emily’s hands reached up to palm Fiona’s breasts, but Fiona gently grabbed her wrists and moved them away.

“This is _your_ break,” Fiona said, her voice like velvet as she released Emily’s glossy black hair from its ponytail, “You are so strong, and so driven, and you work so hard,” she continued, running her fingers through soft, dark tresses, “But right now, you’re going to relax, and you’re going to give up control, and you’re going to let me take care of you.”

Emily nodded, unable to find any words. God, she was so turned on, and Fiona hadn’t even touched her yet. But it was that smooth, authoritative tone that made her head spin and turned her knees into jelly. Giving over control to Fiona sounded so _fucking nice_ right now, and she looked so hot in that black satin lingerie that Emily would have done _anything_ Fiona asked her to.

“Okay,” Fiona said in that same silky tone, “First, let’s do something about these clothes.” She lifted Emily’s sweatshirt up over her head. “You have such a beautiful body, Emily,” she murmured softly as her hands grazed over the pale skin of the older woman’s abdomen before unbuttoning her jeans and pushing them down over her hips. She wrapped a hand around the back of Emily’s head and pulled her in for a searing, passionate kiss. Emily whimpered into Fiona’s mouth as she felt the ache between her legs grow stronger.

“Bra and underwear off, too, then lie down on the bed,” Fiona instructed. Emily did as she was told, keeping her eyes fixed on Fiona the whole time. She melted under Fiona’s smoldering gaze, and oh, fuck, how was she already so wet?

“Fiona…” she gasped, her chest heaving in anticipation.

“Are you ready to feel good, baby?” Fiona husked as she crawled on top of Emily, “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good.” She leaned in and captured Emily’s lips with her own before moving down to lavish kisses all over her neck and collarbone. Emily’s hands flew to Fiona’s ribcage, but Fiona swatted them away. She pinned Emily’s wrists down to the mattress above her head and looked down at the older brunette with a piercing stare.

“I’m in charge, remember?” she purred.

“You’re in charge,” Emily whispered, nodding her head enthusiastically.

Fiona smirked. “Good girl,” she said, and gave Emily a tender kiss. She slid down to Emily’s chest and took a taut nipple into her mouth, enjoying the delighted gasp she got in response. She bit down on Emily’s left nipple while her thumb drew quick, tight circles over the right one.

“Oh, god,” Emily whined, turning her head to the side and arching her back into Fiona.

Fiona slid her hand between Emily’s thighs. “Fuck, Em, you feel so good,” she groaned, “So hot and wet, just for me.” Emily’s breath hitched as Fiona’s fingers slid through her folds. Fiona’s mouth returned to Emily’s breasts, and her index finger found Emily’s clit and began drawing slow, gentle circles.

“I want to hear you, Emily,” Fiona said in that sexy, commanding tone, “Let me hear those pretty sounds you make.” Emily let out a breathy moan as Fiona kissed a trail down to her navel. She paused to look up at Emily with a wolfish grin before burying her face in the apex of the older woman’s trembling thighs. Emily let out a high-pitched whine as Fiona’s tongue made contact with her extremely wet pussy. Fiona dragged her tongue up and down the length of Emily’s pussy before settling on her clit, beginning a rhythm of soft, gentle licks that grew harder and faster as Emily’s moans became louder and more desperate. When she could tell Emily was close to the edge, she slid two fingers inside of her, curling them against her g-spot.

“Oh, god, Fiona!” Emily cried out, “Oh, fuck! Oh, just like that! That feels so good!” She gripped the sheets and let out a long, keening moan as her orgasm washed over her in waves of ecstasy. She looked down her body at Fiona, who glanced up at her with a mischievous expression that told Emily she had no intention of stopping. She kept up the rhythm of her nimble tongue and fingers, coaxing out a second orgasm and then a third.

“How are you so good at that?” Emily gasped as she came down from her high.

“Well, you’ve given me a lot of practice,” Fiona replied with a teasing smile before leaning down to kiss her girlfriend, letting Emily taste herself in the kiss. Emily smiled and reached up to run her fingers through Fiona’s wavy brown hair. Fiona looked at Emily—her long black hair splayed out around her and her skin glowing a tantalizing pink, her gorgeous brown doe eyes so full of love and her satisfied smile showing off her adorable dimples—and allowed herself to marvel for a moment at just how _stunningly beautiful_ this woman was before pulling away and standing up.

“Are you ready for round two?” Fiona asked.

“Um, round two?!” Emily squeaked.

“Oh, honey,” Fiona teased, “Did you think I was done making you feel good?” She crossed over to the other side of the bedroom and rummaged around in Emily’s closet until she found _the box_ —the box that Emily kept hidden away on a high shelf behind a pile of old sweatshirts because she didn’t want anyone except Fiona to know she even had it. She opened the box and pulled out the strap on. She fastened the harness around her waist and turned back to Emily, eyes full of lust. The sight of Fiona in a strap on always did wild, incredible things to Emily, but now—hell, she thought she might come just from _looking._

“Spread your legs,” Fiona instructed. Emily gulped and parted her thighs, her eyes fixated on the silicone toy between Fiona’s legs. Fiona strode across the room and climbed up on the bed. She bent Emily’s knees and pushed them upwards, folding her legs back towards her chest before lining the tip of the toy up with Emily’s pussy. Emily let out a delicious hiss as the toy filled her. Fiona pressed their hips together, burying the dildo deep inside Emily. She leaned forward, hovering just inches above the older woman.

“I love you so fucking much, Emily Prentiss,” she murmured softly before planting a kiss on Emily’s parted lips.

“I love you, too,” Emily breathed out as Fiona began fucking into Emily with a slow, tantalizing rhythm. Emily’s hands gravitated to Fiona’s body once again, and this time, Fiona let them stay. She let out a soft, breathy moan as she felt Emily’s thumbs graze over her nipples through the satin, and she angled her hips so the base of the toy hit her clit _just right._ Emily squirmed underneath her in a way that told Fiona she was ready for more.

“Do you want me to fuck you harder, baby?” she asked, but from her tone, Emily could tell it wasn’t really a question.

“Yes, Fiona,” Emily gasped, “I need you.” Fiona’s thrusts grew harder and faster, and a string of whimpers and expletives tumbled from Emily’s lips. Fiona felt her own arousal building. She let out a long, low groan against Emily’s neck. Emily reached down to press her fingers against her own clit, but Fiona swatted her hand away.

“Let _me_ do that, sweet girl,” she whispered, replacing Emily’s fingers with her own. Emily moaned loudly and dug her fingers into Fiona’s shoulder blades. Her fair skin flushed as she panted heavily and jerked her hips up to meet Fiona’s thrusts, and oh, god, she was making Fiona so hot and so wet. Emily threw her head back and whined. Her body trembled as she came, and the sight of this gorgeous woman falling apart under her pushed Fiona perilously close to the edge. Emily blinked her eyes open to look at Fiona, but Fiona just kissed her and kept going.

“You look so fucking hot when I fuck you like this,” Fiona groaned, “I could come inside you right now.”

“Oh, god, please,” Emily whined, “I want you to come inside me, Fiona.”

“Say my name like that again,” Fiona growled.

“Fiona!” Emily repeated, arching her back up off the mattress.

“Oh, fuck!” Fiona whined, “Come with me, Emily.” At this point she wasn’t so much thrusting into Emily as grinding her hips against the older woman. Emily gripped Fiona’s ass and pulled her in closer. They pressed their bodies together and panted as their orgasms hit, Emily’s first, and Fiona’s just seconds later. Fiona collapsed against Emily’s shoulder as she came down from her high, and felt a hand gently stroke her hair. Once she’d caught her breath, she stood up, removed her harness and lay back down on the bed beside Emily.

“You’re really amazing, you know,” she murmured softly as she stroked Emily’s cheek. Emily stared deep into Fiona’s mesmerizing dark eyes before pulling her in for a passionate kiss. She slid her tongue into Fiona’s mouth and let her hands roam the younger woman’s body. When Fiona moaned softly into Emily’s mouth, Emily took the opportunity to flip her over onto her back and straddle her hips. She began planting open-mouthed kisses along Fiona’s neck, kissing her way up to just behind Fiona’s ear before nipping playfully at the lobe.

“You’re so sexy,” she whispered in Fiona’s ear. She pulled back and hovered over the younger woman, looking deep into her eyes as she nuzzled her nose against Fiona’s and pushed a lock of brown hair behind her ear.

Fiona smiled. “You really think you’re up for round three?” she laughed.

“Mmhmmm,” Emily purred, burying her face in Fiona’s neck, “Why should you get to have all the fun?”

Fiona jerked her head back away from Emily. “I’m sorry,” she teased, “Are you implying that having five orgasms _wasn’t_ fun for you?”

“I’m just saying,” Emily said, grazing her fingers over the smooth skin of Fiona’s stomach, “What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t return the favor?” She kissed her way down Fiona’s body until she reached the waistband of her soaking wet underwear. Fiona lifted her hips to allow Emily to pull them off. Emily dropped the drenched satin onto the floor before turning back to Fiona and gently pushing her legs apart. Fiona panted in anticipation as Emily looked up at her with a wicked, sexy grin. She ghosted her fingertips along Fiona’s thighs and cocked her head prettily.

“Please, Emily,” Fiona whispered. So much for Fiona being in charge.

“So wet for me, aren’t you?” Emily teased. She planted a gentle kiss on the inside of Fiona’s thigh before darting her tongue out and running it through the contours of the younger woman’s hot, wet folds, pressing her tongue against her and into her in all the ways that drove Fiona wild. No matter how many times they had sex, Fiona would never truly get over just how _spectacularly good_ Emily was at eating her out. She dug her fingernails into Emily’s scalp and let out a long, keening moan. Emily pressed on, loving the effect she was having on Fiona. She shifted her mouth up to suckle at Fiona’s clit, causing the younger woman to writhe in pleasure. Fiona bucked her hips, but Emily’s hands reached up and pinned them firmly against the mattress. She could tell Fiona was close, and she let her bottom teeth scrape ever so gently against the underside of Fiona’s clit. Fiona’s thighs trembled on either side of Emily’s head. She threw her head back and wailed Emily’s name as her orgasm coursed through her.

Emily paused just long enough to look up and smile at Fiona, admiring the way she’d made her come undone, before dipping her head back between Fiona’s legs. Her mouth returned to Fiona’s clit, and she eased two fingers inside to stroke her g-spot. Fiona gripped the sheets and panted desperately. Pleasure surged through her veins, making her heart pound and her head spin. A rush of warm fluid erupted out from between her legs, hitting Emily’s chin and drenching her fingers. Emily pulled back and wiped her chin with her forearm.

“I love it when you do that,” she said with a sly smile, her dry hand caressing the outside of Fiona’s thigh as she came down.

“Only for you, baby,” Fiona panted, “You’re just that good.” She pulled Emily up and into a kiss, tasting and feeling her own arousal on Emily’s lips and chin. “How about I clean up here, and you go order us a pizza?” she suggested, grazing her thumb over Emily’s cheek. Emily smiled and nodded. She stood up, threw on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, and headed for the door. She paused with one hand on the doorknob and looked back over her shoulder.

“Fiona?” she said softly.

“Yeah, baby,” Fiona cooed, looking up at her with a loving smile.

“Thank you,” Emily said, “I don’t think I realized just how much I needed this.”

Fiona’s smile widened, and she tilted her head towards Emily. “You know I’ve always got your back, Em,” she said.

“Yeah,” Emily murmured softly, looking down at the floor, “You’re really, really good for me.” She slipped out of the bedroom before Fiona could respond or notice tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Emily had spent so much of her life building up walls and shutting people out, and overcompensating for the fact that she never quite felt like she fit anywhere by channeling all her anxiety into striving to be perfect at everything she did. Being with Fiona was helping her learn to let all of that go and just _be._ She knew she still had work to do—she would _always_ have plenty of work to do—but with Fiona by her side, she could finally learn how to relax.


	23. You Know We’ll Have a Good Time Then

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The long hours as unit chief are starting to take a toll on Emily’s marriage, but maybe she can make it up to Diana with a romantic gesture. I guess in this version of events, Emily went to New York instead of London? She and Diana are married and raising their son, Theo, together. I honestly don’t know how I became such an ardent Emily/Diana shipper that I’d write five whole fics about them, but here we are. Emily Prentiss/Diana Barrigan (Criminal Minds, White Collar), rated T.

The BAU team trudged into the office at 7:15 AM. They’d just had a grueling case in Seattle, followed by an overnight flight back. Emily perked up when she saw Diana coming down the hallway towards them, pushing Theo in his stroller. Suddenly full of energy, she hurried over to greet her wife.

“Diana!” she said, “This is a pleasant surprise.”

“Yeah,” Diana said, “I figured after a tough case and a redeye flight, you could use some sustenance and maybe a ride home.”

Emily smiled. “You’re so sweet,” she said, leaning in and kissing her wife. She looked down at the bag of bagels hanging from the handle of Theo’s stroller. “Those are for me?” she asked.

Diana chuckled, “I mean, I thought you _might_ want to share them with your team, but yes.”

Emily gave Diana’s shoulder a squeeze before stepping around to the front of Theo’s stroller and crouching down. “Hey, little man!” she said, tickling the toddler’s sides. Emily groaned slightly as she lifted Theo out of his stroller and onto her hip. “Your mama missed you so, so much, sweet boy.” Theo leaned in and gave Emily a kiss.

Still holding her son, Emily turned to her team. “Alright,” she said, “Everyone grab a bagel, then go home, get some rest, and don’t come back for the next 48 hours.”

“Wow, a whole weekend with your family,” Diana said as she took Theo from Emily.

“I know,” Emily said, taking a bagel and a tub of cream cheese, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I missed you guys.”

“We’re just glad to have you home,” Diana said with a smile, “You’ve practically been living on that jet for the past month.”

Emily shook her head. “Seriously,” she said between bites of her bagel, “I mean, I _think_ I remember what our house looks like, but, you know…”

“Yeah, I hope you weren’t too attached to your side of the bed, because it’s Sergio’s now,” Diana teased.

“Well, he’s probably a better cuddler than me, anyway,” Emily deadpanned.

The banter may have been light, but the feelings behind it weren’t. Emily really had been away from her family a lot lately. Her job had always meant time on the road and away from Diana, but since becoming unit chief, she’d been struggling more and more to balance work and family. The BAU team had been exceptionally busy over the past few months, working case after case, frequently without much of a break in between. It was taking its toll on everyone, including Diana and Theo. Diana was exhausted: She had enough on her plate raising a toddler and working in the Art Crimes unit even when Emily was around, but lately she’d been feeling like a single mother. Her parents were more than happy to help with Theo, but this wasn’t the life she envisioned when she and Emily first decided to have a baby. Emily felt terrible about spending so much time away from her wife and son; her heart broke a little bit every time she had to leave them, and she hated feeling like she was missing out on their life together. She’d missed parent-teacher conferences at Theo’s preschool last week, and she wasn’t there to take care of him when he had an ear infection a few weeks before that. Emily and Diana’s marriage was suffering, too. They talked every day, but all that time on the road was hardly conducive to intimacy, and they were starting to feel like ships passing in the night. They’d celebrated their anniversary 1,500 miles away from each other, eating separate candlelit dinners over FaceTime.

Emily wrapped an arm around Diana’s shoulders as they walked to the car. She’d never known just how much love she was capable of until Diana and then Theo had come into her life, and now that they were all finally together as a family, she felt whole. She didn’t care that she’d barely slept in three days; being reunited with the two great loves of her life had reinvigorated her. She kissed Diana deeply once they were in the car.

“Oh, I really missed that,” she breathed, gazing lovingly into Diana’s eyes, “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Em,” Diana said, brushing her thumb over Emily’s cheek. She put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking space. Once on the road, she let her hand slide over to Emily’s knee. She looked over at her wife while stopped at a red light and smiled softly at the sight of Emily drifting off to sleep against the car window, her straight black hair falling into her face and her long eyelashes fluttering gently. Emily carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, but when she slept, she looked so peaceful and content.

“I’m up,” Emily jerked herself awake as she felt Diana put the car in park.

“Aww, you looked so peaceful,” Diana said, tucking Emily’s hair behind her ear.

They were finally home, and ready to begin their weekend of family time. They spent the warm, sunny morning in the front yard, where Theo thoroughly wore his mommies out with all his running around. After lunch, they relaxed in the living room, Emily and Diana sitting on the couch while Theo stood at the coffee table, engrossed in his coloring book. Diana sprawled out across the couch, resting her legs on Emily’s lap and reaching one hand down to pet the cat. Emily began massaging Diana’s feet.

“Mmmm, that’s nice,” Diana hummed, “I don’t think you’ve done this for me since I was pregnant.”

“Really?” Emily said, “Well, that’s no good; I should do it for you all the time.” This was _exactly_ what Emily had been longing for. She wanted to freeze time and stay right there on that couch forever, with Theo coloring and Sergio purring and Diana smiling up at her looking happier than Emily had seen her in weeks.

Barely nine hours had passed in their family weekend before Emily’s phone rang again.

“Seriously?” Diana whined.

Emily gave her an apologetic look as she answered the call. “Prentiss,” she sighed.

Diana’s heart sank as she listened to Emily’s end of the conversation. It wasn’t Emily’s fault, she reminded herself. Cases came in when they came in, and it wasn’t like Emily could just _not go._ Unsubs, unfortunately, had no regard for Barrigan-Prentiss family time.

“It’s probably nothing,” Emily said as she put on her shoes and grabbed her keys.

“When has it ever been nothing?” Diana retorted.

Emily tilted her head and gave Diana an apologetic grimace. “Look, I’ll call you once I know more,” she said, “But they’re not going to send us out on another case the same day we just got back from one. I’ll definitely be home later tonight.” She kissed her wife and son before heading out the door.

It was long past Theo’s bedtime when Emily finally called her wife.

“Let me guess: another case?” Diana said.

“Yeah, it’s a bad one,” Emily sighed, “Missing Girl Scout troop. But at least it’s local, and it probably won’t take too long. It does mean I won’t be home tonight, though.”

“I figured as much,” Diana replied.

“Sweetheart, I am so, so sorry…” Emily began.

“No, Emily, it’s fine,” Diana said, “You have a job to do. Just bring those girls home safe, okay?”

“I will do my best,” Emily said, “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Diana changed out of the purple negligee she’d put on for Emily’s benefit and into a battered old t-shirt and a pair of yoga pants. _Another night of no Emily and no sex,_ she thought, _man, this is one hell of a dry spell. I don’t think we’ve gone this long since just after I gave birth, but at least then I didn’t have to sleep alone with a cat._

“Sergio! Here, kitty,” she cooed. She picked up the little black cat and gave him a quick nuzzle. “Looks like it’s still just you and me for now, bud.”

“That was the wife?” Rossi asked Emily when he saw her hang up the phone and put her hand to her forehead with a pained expression.

“Yeah,” Emily said, “I just had to inform her that she’d be spending _yet another_ night spooning with a cat instead of me. Fuck, Dave, sometimes I _really_ hate this job.”

“I hear you,” Rossi said, putting a sympathetic hand on Emily’s elbow, “Look, Emily, I’ve seen this job destroy a lot of marriages, but not yours. Diana’s a special woman, and what the two of you have is strong enough to withstand anything. You’re a good wife and a good mother, and your family knows that. Now let’s solve this case so we can get you back home to them, okay?”

Emily nodded. “Thanks, Rossi. Really, it means a lot.”

The house was dark and silent when Emily finally came home at ten past four. She tiptoed up to her bedroom where Diana was sleeping and hoped the glow from her phone would give her enough light to see what she was doing without waking her wife. She quietly changed out of her work clothes and into her pajamas and shooed Sergio off her pillow before carefully slipping into bed.

“Fuck! Emily! Your feet are like ice!” came the harsh whisper from the other side of the bed. So much for not waking Diana.

“Sorry, baby!” she whispered, draping an arm over Diana and planting a gentle kiss on her cheek, “Go back to sleep.” She nestled in against Diana’s back and let long-awaited sleep come. Emily’s feet were still cold against Diana’s, but at least they were _there,_ Diana thought. She curled her hand around her wife’s and drifted off to sleep again.

At 10 AM, Emily shuffled downstairs after five and a half hours of sleep. Diana and Theo were already there and reading a book together on the couch. Emily leaned over the back of the couch and kissed them both before heading into the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee. Diana finished Theo’s story and joined her wife in the kitchen.

“Hey,” she said, “How’d everything go last night?”

“Well, we found the missing girls,” Emily replied, “So that’s a win, but I’m still just really tired.” She stirred a splash of cream into her coffee and took a sip.

“Too tired to go see the panda cub? Theo wanted to wait until you got home,” Diana said.

“Oh, shit,” Emily groaned, “I completely forgot we were going to do that. Look, Diana, I’m really sorry, but I have to—”

“You were going to go into the office again, weren’t you?” Diana said.

“I have to,” Emily sighed apologetically, “I have a lot of stuff to wrap up from last night, and a mountain of paperwork on my desk from the past few cases.”

“It’s Sunday, Emily,” Diana protested, “And you haven’t had a real day off since—God, I don’t even know when.”

Emily shrugged. “That’s just the job.”

Diana rolled her eyes. “You say that as though I don’t _also_ work for the FBI,” she said.

“It’s different, Diana,” Emily insisted, “You _know_ it’s different.”

“What, you mean, because you outrank me?” Diana said indignantly.

“No,” Emily shot back, “Because you go after forgers and art thieves, and I go after serial killers!”

“Fine,” Diana huffed, “Just make sure you say goodbye to Theo before you go.”

Emily got in to the office at 11:15. The building was nearly empty. Most of the people who worked there were enjoying a nice Sunday off, but then, that was just one of the perks of being unit chief, wasn’t it? She sank down into her chair and logged in to her computer. Her eyes wandered over to the framed picture of Theo and Diana she kept on her desk, and she felt her heart break as she looked at it. She flipped the picture frame over to keep herself from crying and went to work. She slogged through the mountain of paperwork, taking breaks only to pee and caffeinate.

At 3:47, Emily opened an email from Diana. In it was a video she’d taken earlier that afternoon. Diana pointed at letter magnets on a little board as Theo identified the letters in his name.

“Yay! Good job, buddy!” Diana cheered, as Theo’s tiny hand shot forward to high-five his mommy. Emily smiled with pride as she watched her son, but felt a sharp pang of regret that she had to see it over video.

At 5:28, Emily’s phone rang. It was Diana.

“Hey, honey,” Emily said. Diana could hear the exhaustion in her voice over the phone.

“Hi,” she said, “I was just, uh, just checking in. You know, I hadn’t heard from you since you left this morning, and I was thinking maybe I’d make enchiladas for dinner, but then I realized I didn’t know how long you were planning to stay at the office, so…”

“Yeah, I’m really sorry, Diana, I’ve just been so focused on getting through all this paperwork,” Emily said, “I should have called you.”

“Did you see the video?” Diana asked.

“I did,” Emily said, “God, I can’t believe how smart he is!”

“I know, right?!” Diana exclaimed.

Emily tried to keep her tone cheerful as she said, “I’m just sorry I missed it.”

“He’ll probably be happy to do it again; he did it fifteen times for me today,” Diana deadpanned, “I have to say, it did get slightly less impressive after about the sixth.”

Emily laughed, but Diana could hear the sadness behind it.

“So, um, do you have an ETA?” Diana asked, “Should I get dinner started?”

Emily sighed heavily. “Sweetie, I still have so much paperwork on my desk…”

“You’re not going to be home for dinner, are you?” Diana asked.

“No,” Emily admitted, “Um, I wouldn’t wait up.”

“Wow, that late, huh?” Diana scoffed.

“Diana…” Emily began.

“No, I get it, babe,” Diana insisted.

“Look, I know this was supposed to be our family weekend, but—”

“But that’s the job,” Diana cut her off, “Yeah, I know, Emily, you’ve made that perfectly clear on many occasions.”

“I’m sorry,” Emily said softly.

“Yeah, you know, maybe I’m not the only one you should be saying that to,” Diana retorted.

Emily felt a pang like a knife had just stabbed her through the heart. “You’re right,” she admitted, “How is he?”

“He’s been asking for you all day,” Diana said quietly.

Emily shook her head. “God, I am so sorry,” she said again, “I really wish I could have spent the day with you guys, but…”

“Just come home and see your kid before this turns into a Harry Chapin song, okay?” Diana said.

“Yeah, I will,” Emily sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Give him a kiss for me.”

“Give him one yourself, Em,” Diana shot back. She softened her tone. “I’ll talk to you later. I love you.”

“Love you, too, babe,” Emily said, “I’ll be home as soon as I can.” She hung up the phone and sighed.

At 10:06, Emily finally got home. Diana was sitting cross-legged on the couch with her laptop, a beer, and Sergio. She looked up to see Emily kick off her shoes and drop her bag on the floor with a loud thud.

“Hey,” Diana said with a half-smile, “I’m glad you’re back.”

Emily tilted her head and looked at Diana. “You’re not mad at me?” she asked tentatively.

“I was, a little,” Diana admitted, “But I’m not anymore.”

“I’m really sorry,” Emily mumbled.

“Yeah, you said that already,” Diana said, looking back down at her laptop.

Emily walked over to the couch and tilted Diana’s chin up for a kiss. “I mean it,” she said, gazing into Diana’s eyes.

Diana smiled. “I know you do,” she said quietly.

“I’ve missed you,” Emily said, “A lot.”

Diana squeezed Emily’s hand. “Me too, baby.”

Diana closed her laptop and recycled her beer bottle before heading upstairs with Emily and Sergio. Emily stopped in front of Theo’s bedroom door, and Diana braced herself on the wall to keep from bumping into her.

“He’s asleep, Emily,” Diana said softly.

“I just want to see him,” Emily replied, “I won’t wake him up.”

“If you do, _you’re_ putting him back down again,” Diana warned.

Emily slipped quietly into her son’s room and pulled up a chair beside the slumbering toddler’s bed. He looked so peaceful and angelic in the soft glow of his Mickey Mouse nightlight, his little fingers clutching the ear of his favorite stuffed dog. Emily sat in silence and watched him sleep. She thought back on the past few years of her life, and how she’d envisioned them going way back when she first put her hand on Diana’s belly and felt Theo’s tiny kicks like butterfly wings. Before she met Diana, Emily had never allowed herself to admit just how much she wanted to be a mother; she’d shoved all maternal instincts aside, thinking that with her job and her life, it just wasn’t in the cards for her. But then Diana had looked deep into her eyes and said, “I think you’d be a really good mom, Emily,” and she knew she couldn’t ignore it anymore. In her whole life, she’d never wanted anything as much as she wanted to have a family with Diana. Emily never had any delusions about being a working mother; she _knew_ it would be hard sometimes, and she _knew_ she’d miss moments in Theo’s life. She and Diana had talked extensively during Diana’s pregnancy about how they planned to juggle two FBI careers, a marriage, and a baby, but that was before Emily went back to the BAU, before she became unit chief, before work became all-consuming. She’d missed out on so much of Theo’s short life already. Emily’s own parents had worked long hours at all-consuming jobs, and as a child, she’d too often been forced to take a backseat to their careers. It was a lonely, difficult childhood, moving around from country to country with parents who never seemed to have enough time for her. She _swore_ she would never be like that with her own son. She’d made that promise to Theo in the hospital the very first time she’d held him in her arms.

“I’m so sorry, sweet boy,” she whispered, reaching out to graze a finger along his little cheek.

She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye as she rose from her chair and silently tiptoed out of Theo’s room. She went down the hall into her own bedroom. Diana was already in bed, and she put her book down on the nightstand when she saw Emily come in. Emily brushed her teeth and changed into her pajamas, then climbed into bed next to Diana. Diana reached over to turn off the lamp before tilting her head back and pulling Emily in to kiss her goodnight.

“I really did miss you,” Emily murmured against Diana’s neck, gently running one hand down her side.

“I know you did, honey, but not tonight, okay? I’m tired,” Diana said, shuffling away from Emily slightly. “I missed you, too,” she said softly, still looking away.

Emily stared up at the ceiling as her wife dozed off beside her. She was feeling frustrated, and not just because they hadn’t had sex in almost a month. She felt like she was failing her wife and child; she could see how much Diana was struggling. _Diana deserves better,_ she thought, _better than this, better than me._ She quickly pushed that thought out of her mind. That kind of thinking led all too easily to giving up, and Emily Prentiss was _not_ a quitter. Yes, Diana deserved better, but that just meant Emily would have to _be_ better. She wasn’t going to let this job take away the love and happiness she’d found with Diana and Theo after so many years of believing she was destined for a life of solitude. Rossi was right; this job had destroyed too many marriages, and despite what he had said about Diana being a special woman, Emily knew that if she wasn’t careful, it could destroy hers, too. She’d seen it happen to Hotch. Diana wasn’t Haley, she reminded herself, but even so, did she really want to keep going like this? She loved working at the BAU, and she didn’t want to step down as unit chief, but she knew in her heart that _something_ would have to change. Emily closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. She knew exactly what she needed to do, and exactly how she was going to do it.

Emily made sure to leave her office _promptly_ at 5. Paperwork be damned; she had more important things to do, and if she left now, she could make a few stops on the way home and still be there in time for dinner. Her team watched in disbelief as Emily disappeared into the elevator. When was the last time they’d seen their boss leave this early?

Emily opened the front door of her house and immediately smelled Diana’s cooking. She made her way into the kitchen to see Diana helping Theo wash his hands before dinner.

Diana looked up and smiled. “You’re just in time!”

“Mama! Mama!” Theo crowed, running over to Emily on his wobbly little legs.

“Hey, buddy!” she said, “Did you have a good day?”

Theo nodded. “I went to the park,” he said proudly.

“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” Emily told him as she helped him into his booster seat. She kissed the top of his head before crossing over to Diana and pulling her in for a brief but passionate kiss.

“Hey, baby,” she said.

“Hey,” Diana said back with a smile.

“I picked up a few things for you on my way home,” Emily said. She reached into her grocery bag and pulled out a clamshell package, which she placed on the counter in front of Diana.

Diana smiled. “Blueberries,” she said, “My favorite!”

“Yeah, and I got you this, too,” Emily said, handing her a paperback book.

“Blueberries and a Stephen King novel,” Diana mused, “Okay, I feel like these are probably clues to something.”

Emily smiled. “One last thing,” she said. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope.

Diana took it and peered inside. “Keys?”

“Keep going,” Emily urged.

Diana pulled a piece of paper out of the envelope and unfolded it to reveal a picture of a vacation cottage overlooking a rocky seashore. “Oh, honey, is this…?” she breathed.

Emily nodded. “My parents’ house in Bar Harbor. The vacation time’s already been approved for both of us. Two weeks: no cases, no paperwork, no distractions—just you, me, and this little bean right here.”

Diana beamed and looked up at Emily. “A real family vacation?” she said.

“A real family vacation,” Emily repeated. She took a deep breath. “Diana, I can’t promise that I’ll never have to pull another all-nighter, or work back-to-back cases, or miss any more birthdays or anniversaries or milestones. But what I can promise—what I _am_ promising you—is that you and Theo are my number one priority, and I will do whatever it takes to prove that to both of you.”

Diana threw her arms around Emily’s neck and kissed her again. Two weeks in Bar Harbor wouldn’t fix everything, but it was definitely a start, and Diana could tell that Emily meant what she said. Emily’s job would still take her away from her family far too much for anyone’s liking, but they would make it work. Tonight, though, wild horses couldn’t drag Emily from her wife and son. Tonight they would have a nice family dinner. They would put their son to bed and kiss him goodnight. They would talk easily and comfortably as they finished cleaning up the kitchen before snuggling up on the couch to unwind from the stress of the day with a glass of red wine and an episode of a cooking show. They would have mind-blowing sex— _finally_ —and cuddle under the covers, falling asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing. In a few days, they would be at the Prentiss family getaway, enjoying sun and sand and wild Maine blueberries and quality time as a family. When they came back, they would both have to return to work and stress and childcare hassles and remembering to pick up the dry cleaning, but Emily would keep her promise and make sure her wife and son never forgot just how much she cherished them.

Being married to Emily wasn’t always easy, but Diana wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn’t recognize it, the title is a lyric from the chorus of Harry Chapin’s “Cat’s in the Cradle,” a song about a workaholic father missing out on his son’s life, to which Diana alluded during her phone conversation with Emily.


	24. Rules of Fraternization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emily and JJ’s first time, quite possibly written in a way that’s already been done a million times before. Emily Prentiss/Jennifer Jareau (Criminal Minds), rated E.

Emily fidgeted nervously in the elevator as she came into work on Monday morning. She hadn’t been this nervous since her first day at the BAU. She’d finally worked up the courage to come out to her team the previous Friday, and this would be their first day in the office since then.

“So, you’re sure everyone’s cool with it?” Emily asked Penelope as they prepared their morning coffees.

“Yeah, Em, totally cool,” Penelope assured her, “I mean, Morgan’s a little miffed that he lost his bet with Reid, but other than that, we’re all really happy for you.”

JJ poked her head out from her office. “Conference room in five minutes, guys,” she called down before disappearing behind her door again.

“Some people might be a little _extra_ happy about it, if you catch my drift,” Penelope said suggestively.

Emily rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Garcia.”

“Think about it,” Penelope said, giving Emily a playful nudge before setting off for the conference room.

“Wait—Morgan made a bet with Reid?!” Emily called after her.

The team gathered around the conference table as JJ briefed them on their latest case. It was Sacramento this time, and they’d need to leave quickly. Emily stifled a grimace at the crime scene photos. This definitely wasn’t going to be _nice,_ but in all honesty, she was kind of glad to be working a case. It would give her something to focus on, something to discuss with the team that didn’t have anything to do with her personal life or what she’d shared with them last week. It would feel normal, as frightening as that was.

“Wheels up in 30,” Hotch said, and the team grabbed their ready bags and headed for the plane. Emily spent the plane ride with her nose buried in her book, pretending not to notice JJ sneaking furtive glances at her every few minutes. She’d been attracted to JJ since the day they met, and there had been a brief period earlier in her tenure at the BAU when she’d found it difficult to keep her crush on the young, blonde press liaison from affecting their professional relationship, but she was over that now, and she was happy she’d reached a point where she could be attracted to JJ without pining for her. She wasn’t about to mess that up by allowing herself to entertain JJ’s curiosity. Emily had done enough sleeping with straight girls back in graduate school to last her a lifetime. It always turned out the same: It was fun at first, but it quickly turned messy, and it never ended well; and that was all fine when she was twenty-three and just looking to have some fun and some orgasms, but she was in her late thirties now. She didn’t feel like going down that particular road again with any straight women, but she _definitely_ didn’t want to go there with JJ. Not when she’d fought so hard for her place in the BAU. Not when she finally felt like she belonged there, like she was a valued and trusted member of the team. Not when she’d come to value JJ’s friendship so much that she’d willingly buried all hopes of it ever becoming anything more.

JJ watched Emily focus just a little _too_ hard on her book, and it frustrated her. She’d suspected for some time that Emily was into her, but now that Emily had come out to the team, she was pretty sure of it. JJ was perfectly comfortable with her own bisexuality, but she was also perfectly comfortable keeping her private life private, especially since she mostly dated guys, and hadn’t actually been with a woman since her very early days with the BAU. Still, she hadn’t exactly been shy about dropping hints that she found Emily incredibly attractive. Emily was such a skilled profiler; could she really not pick up on the fact that her feelings for JJ were reciprocated?

The team landed in Sacramento in the late afternoon and met up with local law enforcement to get situated and interview some of the victims’ next of kin. Hotch determined they wouldn’t get anything more done before morning and instructed the team to rest up and come back tomorrow.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys,” Morgan said, “But I could go for a burger.”

“Ooh, yeah, me too!” JJ said.

“I’m in,” Emily added. She clapped a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “How ‘bout it, Reid? I mean, you did just come into some money, after all.”

The four younger team members found a diner near their hotel and ordered four hamburgers. Emily’s nerves quickly subsided, and she began to relax and enjoy herself. It still felt so comfortable and so normal, spending her downtime on a case hanging out with her teammates—her _friends._ Nothing had changed, really, except for the fact that now she and Morgan could share in their appreciation of the pretty blonde waitress and argue over which one of them she was flirting with. She was having so much fun that she didn’t even think about the way that JJ was looking at her, and she even allowed herself to playfully steal a few fries from JJ’s plate. JJ was glad to see Emily more relaxed, and although she feigned indignation when Emily took her fries, it was a small price to pay if it meant their flirting could start back up again. She didn’t _love_ seeing Emily check out another woman, but it was kind of nice to know that Emily really had a thing for blue-eyed blonde girls.

Back at the hotel, Emily and JJ got out of the elevator on their floor with a quick goodnight to Morgan and Spencer, who were two floors up. They laughed and chatted as they walked down the hall to their rooms, reaching the door of JJ’s room first. Emily paused at JJ’s door.

“Well, this was fun,” she said, “Goodnight, JJ.”

“Hey, do you want to come in for a while?” JJ asked with a shy smile, “I have a sleeve of Oreos in my ready bag.”

A small voice in Emily’s head told her she probably shouldn’t, but she was enjoying herself too much to say no, and besides, they’d hung out in each other’s hotel rooms dozens of times before without it being weird.

“Holy shit, why is your room so much nicer than mine?” Emily exclaimed when she saw JJ’s accommodations, “I mean, this view? That’s just unfair.” She scrambled over to the window and looked out at the scene below.

“Yeah, it’s a pretty nice view,” JJ said, referring more to Emily’s ass than the Sacramento River, “You could stay here if you want—I mean, there’s an extra bed.”

“Are you suggesting a slumber party?” Emily laughed.

JJ shrugged. “Something like that,” she said coyly.

_Fuck._ Emily _knew_ this was going too well. Now JJ was flirting with her again, and in a fucking hotel room no less, and it was making her stomach do somersaults and her heart pound in her ears. She tried to come up with a way she could make a quick exit without giving away her reason why, but her mind drew a blank, and then JJ looked at her with a shy, flirty smile that sent a shiver down her spine and an ache between her legs. Emily’s brain tried to stop it, but her lips started curling on their own, returning JJ’s flirty smile. Emboldened, JJ strode across the room, keeping her eyes fixed on Emily. She stepped in close and put a hand on Emily’s waist.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me, Emily,” she said, her voice low and husky, “I get the sense we both want this.” She ran her other hand through Emily’s dark, silky hair and brought their lips together in a searing, passionate kiss.

Emily pushed JJ back. “JJ, I’m flattered,” she said, “And, look, I totally would—I mean, you’re _incredibly_ hot. But I have a rule: I don’t fuck straight girls.”

JJ furrowed her brow. “Who says I’m a straight girl?” she retorted.

Emily rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Come on, JJ.”

“You’re not my first, Emily,” JJ insisted. She chuckled a little as a thought occurred to her. “You’re not even my _first Emily_.” Emily raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth slightly in surprise. JJ ran her fingers along the back of Emily’s neck and looked up through her eyelashes as she husked, “Let me show you I know what I’m doing.”

This time it was Emily who closed the gap between them, kissing JJ with all the passion and hunger she’d been holding back. JJ was a little surprised by the intensity of the kiss, but she soon melted into Emily’s arms when she felt the brunette’s tongue part her lips and slip into her mouth. She tangled her fingers in Emily’s hair and breathed in the intoxicating scent of lavender and bergamot. Emily splayed her hands across JJ’s back and pulled her in close. One of them moaned softly, but neither of them was sure which. JJ broke the kiss and panted softly as she looked up at Emily.

“Is this okay?” she whispered, her hands slowly sliding up under Emily’s sweater to her breasts. Emily nodded and crashed her lips back into JJ’s as she felt the blonde’s soft hands knead her breasts, and she found herself wishing she’d worn a nicer bra. JJ didn’t seem bothered by it, though; she was having a grand old time feeling Emily’s nipples harden under her fingers, and she moved her mouth over to Emily’s long, graceful neck and started peppering it with kisses, delighting in the way the older woman’s breath hitched when she ever so lightly grazed her teeth against a particularly sensitive spot. Emily’s hands slowly gravitated to JJ’s waist and unzipped her pants and untucked her blouse. JJ pulled away from the kiss and slid her hands out from under Emily’s sweater so she could strip down to her bra and underwear. Her sky blue bra brought out her eyes, and her delicate lace-trimmed underwear hugged her perfectly, and Emily’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of her.

“You’re really beautiful, Jennifer,” she murmured softly, grazing her fingers over JJ’s collarbone.

JJ smiled and blushed. “Your turn,” she whispered, and pulled Emily’s sweater up over her head. JJ had fantasized about Emily’s breasts for months, and even in a plain, heather gray cotton bra, they were still the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Emily kicked off her shoes and socks as she unzipped her pants and pushed them down over her hips. She led JJ over to the nearest bed and sank down, pulling JJ on top of her. Her thumbs grazed over the blonde’s small, pert breasts as they mashed their lips together in a desperate, hungry kiss. JJ nestled one leg between Emily’s and ground their hips together, causing the older woman to shudder and gasp. Emily had banished all hopes of JJ ever touching her like this, but now the beautiful blonde woman’s lithe, supple body was pressed close against hers, and oh, it was so much better than any of her fantasies.

“Take off your bra,” JJ whispered in her ear, “I want to see you.” Emily looked into JJ’s piercing blue eyes as she reached behind herself to unhook her bra, then reached around to unhook JJ’s. JJ took a moment to admire Emily’s bare breasts, then slammed her back down into the mattress and kissed her hungrily.

“Fuck, Emily, how is it even possible for anyone to be _this_ sexy?” she said. She dipped her head down and took a pert, dark pink nipple into her mouth, rolling it with her tongue and sucking on the soft, tender flesh, and okay, yes, clearly JJ _did_ know what she was doing. Emily felt a hand move up her thigh as the younger blonde moved her mouth to the other breast. JJ’s slender fingers teased Emily over her underwear; she was already wet, and the ache between her legs was only growing stronger.

“Touch me,” Emily gasped, and JJ was more than happy to comply. With her mouth still on Emily’s perfect breasts, she slid her hand under the waistband of the brunette’s underwear and dragged her fingers through, exploring the contours of Emily’s wet, hot pussy. Emily whimpered quietly at the sensation. JJ somehow knew just how to touch her, just how much pressure to apply and where and when. JJ pulled her hand away and sat up straight. She stared intensely into Emily’s brown bedroom eyes as she licked her fingers clean.

“Oh, _of course_ you’d taste incredible,” JJ groaned. She slid down to Emily’s waist and kissed the soft, pale skin of her stomach before tugging her underwear off her hips and over her long, slender legs. She pushed the brunette’s knees apart and buried her face at the apex of her thighs. Emily let out a tantalizing whine when JJ’s tongue made contact with her pussy, and JJ rubbed her own thighs together in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the pressure building between her legs. She took Emily’s clit into her mouth, grazing her tongue over the sensitive underside as she sucked gently. Emily writhed and panted and cursed above her, and JJ swelled with pride at her ability to reduce the steely, unshakable Emily Prentiss to a whimpering, trembling mess. When she could tell Emily was close, she slid two fingers into the older woman’s slick pussy and curled them against her g-spot _just so._ Emily arched her back and moaned. Her walls fluttered around JJ’s fingers as her orgasm coursed through her body. She was feeling drunk with pleasure, and JJ showed no signs of stopping. She kept up the skillful movements of her mouth and fingers, taking Emily higher and higher.

“JJ, stop, it’s too much,” Emily finally gasped after her third orgasm. Her mouth broke into a smile as she tipped her head back and panted contentedly. JJ gently pulled her fingers out, taking care not to touch any place Emily was too sensitive. She slid up the bed and lay next to Emily, brushing her bangs out of her flushed, glowing face. She nuzzled her nose against Emily’s neck before tilting her head up to place a tender kiss on her cheek.

“You’re amazing, Emily,” she murmured softly. Emily cupped JJ’s chin in her hand and kissed her deeply. She parted JJ’s lips with her tongue and shuddered happily at the feeling of JJ’s fingernails scraping against her bare back. She flipped the blonde over and straddled her, grinning as she nuzzled her nose against JJ’s and let the ends of her glossy black hair tickle JJ’s neck. She kissed her way down to JJ’s breasts and grazed her teeth against a taut nipple, relishing the breathy sound it elicited from the blonde. She kissed the valley between JJ’s breasts and rested on her sternum, looking up at JJ with a coy smile before returning her mouth to JJ’s nipples. Clearly, Emily was going to take her time with JJ, and the anticipation made JJ’s whole body tingle. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she always knew that Emily would be a tease. That was fine; JJ was more than happy to be teased.

Emily peppered kisses across JJ’s chest as she slowly dragged her fingers up the inside of the blonde woman’s thigh. She skipped right over the one place JJ wanted her the most to drag her fingers back down the other thigh. She took her mouth off JJ’s breast just long enough to tilt her head and look up at the panting blonde with a coy, sexy pout before biting down on a perfectly pink nipple. JJ began to squirm, desperate to rub her hips against any part of Emily’s body. Emily smiled with JJ’s nipple still in her mouth, pleased with herself at how worked up the pretty young blonde was getting. JJ sighed happily when she finally felt a hand move back up her leg and make its way between her thighs, but instead of giving her any relief, Emily just teased her more, curling her fingers against the damp fabric of JJ’s underwear with feather-light touches.

“You’re killing me, Em,” JJ groaned. Emily surged upwards and planted a kiss on JJ’s lips before pressing her fingers against JJ over the fabric of her now soaked underwear. JJ moaned into Emily’s mouth when she finally got that contact she so desperately needed. Emily slipped her hand under the waistband of JJ’s underwear and drew slow, lazy circles over her clit as she lavished the younger woman’s neck with wet, open mouthed kisses. JJ hummed and tilted her head to allow Emily better access. She was just starting to feel that tantalizing ache give way to a pleasant tingle when the kisses and circles suddenly stopped. Emily sat up and looked at her—fuck, _into_ her, more like—with an intense, hungry stare that sent a shiver down JJ’s spine. She grabbed JJ by the hips and pulled her to the edge of the bed, then knelt down in front of her and looked up through her long, dark eyelashes as she slowly pulled JJ’s underwear off. JJ propped herself up on her elbows and looked down at Emily, who cocked an eyebrow and grinned teasingly as she ran her fingers up and down JJ’s calves and nuzzled her cheek against the inside of JJ’s thigh.

“Oh, Jennifer, honey, is this all for me?” she teased when she saw just how wet JJ was. Her brown puppy dog eyes looked up ever so sweetly as she planted a gentle kiss just inches away from where JJ so desperately wanted her mouth. Her hands caressed the outsides of JJ’s thighs as she nuzzled close to where JJ needed her, darting her tongue out to take a quick taste, then pulling back with that same teasing smile and nipping at the tender skin of JJ’s inner thigh.

“Come on, Prentiss, quit teasing,” JJ whined. Emily smiled and draped a long, smooth, perfectly tanned leg over her shoulder. Satisfied with her teasing, she finally relented and licked a stripe up JJ’s pussy. She drew zigzags through the blonde woman’s drenched folds before focusing the tip of her tongue on her sensitive, waiting clit. JJ let out a long, guttural moan as the brunette’s skillful tongue moved against her _just right._ She brought her hands to her own breasts, pinching and tugging at her nipples and looking down at the mane of dark hair bobbing between her legs. The sight of Emily Prentiss on her knees, eating her out was, without a doubt, the sexiest thing JJ had ever seen in her life, and she felt her blood rush and her head spin. Emily took JJ’s clit into her mouth and sucked hard, causing the blonde to arch her back and wail.

“Oh, fuck, that’s good,” JJ gasped, “Oh, I’m so close.” Emily moaned softly against JJ’s pussy as she sucked again and dug her fingers into the flesh of JJ’s thighs. JJ clenched her fingers around a fistful of jet-black hair and whined Emily’s name over and over again as her orgasm washed over her.

“Emily, oh, Emily,” she finally whispered as she came down from her high. Emily looked up at her with those big brown eyes, and JJ’s heart had never felt fuller. She released her grip on Emily’s hair and tenderly stroked her cheek, and Emily turned her head to kiss JJ’s palm. She groaned as she rose to her feet.

“Oh, shit, your knees!” JJ said, “Are your knees okay?”

Emily smiled and shook her head. “It was worth it.” She joined JJ on the bed, and JJ wrapped her arms around her and pulled her down into a cuddle. Emily yelped in surprise, but settled happily in the blonde’s embrace. JJ nuzzled her forehead against Emily’s and gently raked her fingers through silky, dark hair, smiling at the soft, satisfied hum she got from the older brunette.

Finally she placed a gentle kiss into Emily’s forehead and said, “I can’t believe you thought I was straight. You may be a good profiler, but you have terrible gaydar.”

Emily scoffed in mock indignation. “Well, you’ve never shown any interest in women before now, so how was I supposed to know?”

“Seriously?” JJ laughed, “I’ve never shown any interest in women? Emily, I’ve spent the past _five months_ dropping hints that I was interested in you!”

Emily looked up at JJ. “You did?” she asked, “Where was I for all of this?”

JJ snorted. “I honestly don’t know, babe,” she said, and kissed Emily’s hairline.

“Well, whatever,” Emily sighed, “At least we got here eventually.” She tilted her head up and planted a sweet, tender kiss on JJ’s lips.

JJ smiled and gazed lovingly into Emily’s eyes. “Yeah,” she said, “I guess that’s what really matters.”

Emily sat up and reached over for JJ’s ready bag. “Now,” she said, “I believe I was promised some Oreos.”


	25. The Intern

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annie left Greendale for an FBI internship, but now she’s feeling incredibly homesick. Some days she really wants to quit, but there’s just something about Emily Prentiss that feels so wonderfully familiar. This may or may not just be an excuse for me to word vomit about my massive crush on Paget Brewster. Yes, I’m aware I already used the whole “same actress, different character” shtick with Monica and Bedelia, but I promise this one is sufficiently different. Emily Prentiss/Annie Edison (mostly one-sided) (Criminal Minds, Community), technically rated M, but really just for masturbation and lots of swearing.

Homesickness was a funny thing. Annie never expected to miss Greendale so much. Greendale was where her life fell apart when she was eighteen. It was where she fought anxiety, addiction, self-loathing, and impossible expectations. It was where she fell out with her parents and struggled to make it on her own. It was where the Type-A high school go-getter who aimed for the Ivies spent six years of her life at a community college. Greendale was where she pined for much older men who were all wrong for her while letting a sweet, gentle boy who cared so deeply for her _quite literally_ sail away and never come back. But it turns out none of that matters when you’re lying awake in a shitty studio apartment in Quantico, Virginia at 2:45 AM, and you’re 1,700 miles away from all your friends and the only real home you’ve ever known.

She was so excited when she first got the FBI internship; it was a dream come true for her. She’d arrived for her first day of intern training bright-eyed and full of hope, but reality quickly sank in and hit her hard. She’d completed her training with the other interns, and realized she’d probably never really fit in with them. She saw the looks on their faces when she told them where she went to school. Sure, Greendale wasn’t Northwestern or Johns Hopkins or Berkeley, but she was still a college graduate, and she’d earned her place here. She’d been assigned to the BAU and had shown up for her first day, only to learn that the entire BAU team was hundreds of miles away working a case, and there was nobody to show her around or give her anything to do. The team’s technical analyst, Penelope Garcia, had been kind and friendly to her and shown her to her desk, but she had to spend most of the day holed up in her office, fielding requests from the team, leaving Annie alone in an unfamiliar office building surrounded by serious, important people who were too busy to pay any attention to her.

She’d trudged home dejected and cried into her dinner as she listened to the muffled caterwauling of her neighbors screaming at each other through the thin walls of her apartment building. She missed home. At least her shitty apartment in Greendale had Abed and Britta and slightly thicker walls. She missed her friends: She missed Jeff and Britta and Abed and Dean Pelton and Frankie…oh, Frankie. Annie was a little surprised by just how much she missed Frankie. She hadn’t known Frankie as long as her other friends, but right now, it was Frankie’s quick wit and kind smile and calm, steady, levelheaded presence that she longed for the most.

Still unable to sleep at a quarter to six, Annie decided she’d rather mope around the BAU offices than her own apartment. She got dressed for work, doing her best to hide her lack of sleep with makeup, and went into the office just as the sun was coming up. The bullpen was quiet and empty when she put her bag down at her desk and logged in to her computer. She would have gladly started her day, but she realized that with the BAU team having just gotten back yesterday evening, she still had nothing to do. She sighed at her blank computer screen and got up to make herself a cup of coffee. As she rounded the corner, she walked right into a tall, dark-haired woman in her forties carrying a cell phone and a cup of coffee. They both stopped short, causing coffee to slosh over the rim of the cup.

“Oh, shit!” the older woman exclaimed, “Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone else would be in this early.” She put her cup and phone down and grabbed some paper towels from the roll on the counter. “Hey, you’re the new intern, right?” she continued.

Annie nodded. “Yes,” she said, “Annie Edison. I just started yesterday.”

“SSA Emily Prentiss,” the older woman said, “I’m the unit chief here.” She wiped coffee off her hand before extending it to Annie. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here for your first day, but we’re really glad to have you onboard.”

“I’m glad to be here,” Annie replied.

Annie felt a jolt of electricity when she shook Agent Prentiss’ hand. There was just something about this woman…She was strong, tough, resolute, but also elegant, feminine, and _strikingly_ beautiful. She would have been positively regal if she hadn’t carried herself with a slight, sort of endearing awkwardness like she’d never _fully_ grown out of being a shy, clumsy, gangly kid who tripped over her own long limbs. The pensive lines on her face suggested she’d seen a little more of the world than anyone really ought to, certainly more than enough to harden her, but her big brown eyes were still so soft and gentle and kind, and framed by impossibly long, dark lashes. She was a study in contrasts: from her fair skin to her jet-black hair; from the sharp angles of her cheekbones and jawline to the soft, full curve of her dark pink lips. Annie couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there was something about SSA Emily Prentiss that captivated her, comforted her, filled her with the kind of happy excitement she’d felt when she first arrived at Quantico. Something about her felt so nice and familiar; it made Annie think that just maybe this place _could_ feel like home.

“Well, great!” the unit chief said, snapping Annie out of her reverence, “Since you’re here already, I do have a few things you can get started working on, and my office is right up there if you need anything else.” She smiled at Annie, a kind, warm, gorgeous smile that made Annie’s spine tingle.

Annie sat back down at her desk and got to work, feeling much better about this whole FBI internship-thing than she had in nearly two weeks. She finished her assignments around the middle of the afternoon, and felt butterflies in her stomach when she realized that meant going to talk to SSA Prentiss. _Wait, why am I so nervous right now?_ she asked herself as she walked up the stairs and knocked on the unit chief’s office door. She chalked it up to this being her first assignment, and wanting to make sure she did a good job.

“Here’s that follow-up you asked for on the El Paso case,” Annie said, handing the file over.

“Already?” Prentiss asked in surprise, “Wow, that was quick.” She opened the file and skimmed through it. “This is really good work, Annie.”

Annie smiled and blushed. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Yeah, we don’t really do the whole ‘ma’am’ thing here,” the older woman said without looking up from the file, “‘Prentiss’ is just fine.” She looked up and smiled softly at Annie. “Or, you know, ‘Emily’ works, too.”

“Oh, okay,” Annie said, nervously returning Emily’s smile, “Um, if you have anything else you’d like me to work on…”

Emily looked around her office. “You know, I don’t right now,” she said, “But Alvez is working on a new consultation that just came in, and I’m sure he could use an extra pair of eyes.”

Luke was perfectly capable of handling the Peoria consultation on his own, but he was nice enough to show Annie the ropes and introduce her to some of the basics of profiling work. Before they knew it, it was 5 PM. It wasn’t uncommon for agents in the BAU to stay late, but Luke still told Annie to go home for the evening.

“We’ll work on this more tomorrow,” he said, “But this stuff can get to you if you keep at it for too long. Go home, enjoy your evening.”

For the first time in many nights, Annie fully intended to do just that. In spite of the gory crime scene photos she’d spent the past few hours looking at, her spirits were high. She practically floated up the stairs to her apartment. She barely even noticed the noise of her bickering neighbors as she made herself dinner and then flopped down on her bed with a cold beer to watch a movie. She found herself wanting to let her friends back home know how she was doing. Lately, she hadn’t been able to talk to them without getting too upset and too homesick, so she’d mostly been keeping radio silence. But tonight, she felt good enough that she could talk to the friends she missed without it bringing her down too much. She opened her laptop to write an email, and paused briefly to think when she reached the recipient line. She missed them all, of course, but who did she really want to talk to most right now? She took a swig of her beer and began typing. _Dear Frankie…_

This internship was turning out not to be so bad, after all. It still wasn’t the fantastic experience she’d hoped it would be—She still got homesick sometimes; she still missed her friends; she still hated her apartment; she still felt a little out of place here in Quantico and didn’t fit in with the other FBI interns. Still, she actually looked forward to going into work most mornings. She liked the BAU team. She liked learning about profiling and behavioral analysis. She _loved_ working for Emily. Annie was always a hard worker, but she worked _extra_ hard knowing it would make Emily happy. Hell, she’d do _anything_ if it would make Emily happy. The promise of praise and a smile and maybe a gentle, encouraging touch from the bewitching unit chief was all the motivation Annie needed to throw everything she had into every task she was given. The days were longer and harder and more discouraging when the BAU team was out on the road working cases and she didn’t get to see Emily’s brown doe eyes or hear her smooth, lilting voice every day, but when the team was in the office—when _Emily_ was in the office—she thought maybe leaving Greendale for Quantico wasn’t such a mistake after all. On those days, her mind was too full of Emily to think about the way her faucet leaked or the way the other interns looked down on her. Sometimes she looked over and caught Emily deep in thought, and the sight of her brow furrowed and her lips in a focused pout made her smile. Sometimes she made Emily laugh, and the sound filled her with such a warm, pleasant feeling that it was almost like being tipsy. One time Emily had leaned over her shoulder to look at something she’d been working on, and she felt silky black hair brush against her and caught a whiff of citrus, and it gave her goosebumps. Emily’s eyes were deep, dark, sparkling wells of wisdom and tenderness and everything that was good in the world. Emily’s smile felt like home.

Annie had been at the BAU for a few weeks, and she was starting to feel comfortable in her routine. She sat at her desk and prepared some files for the team, occasionally finding excuses to turn around and glance at Emily, who was chatting with JJ in the bullpen kitchen. She caught enough of their conversation to know that JJ’s husband had apparently done something over the weekend to upset her, and she was frustrated that he didn’t seem to think he’d done anything wrong.

“Ugh, men,” JJ groaned, “Who needs them?”

“You’re kinda preaching to the choir, JJ; I’ve been saying that since the mid-nineties,” Emily deadpanned.

Oh, shit—Was Emily _gay_? Not that Annie cared, really. But the thought of Emily Prentiss being with another woman…well, there was just something sort of _intriguing_ about it, something that made Annie’s heart skip a beat and kept flitting in and out of her thoughts for the rest of the morning. During her lunch break, she found she couldn’t stop thinking about it: Emily with women, flirting with women, dating women, kissing women, kissing _her_ —oh, fuck, that was new. She’d never _explicitly_ thought about Emily that way, or any woman, for that matter, and she’d somehow managed to convince herself that her admiration for the stunning brunette was just that: admiration. But now, with this new revelation…Was there more to it? And if there was, what did that mean?

She went home that evening with a lot on her mind, too preoccupied to even notice the sound of the loud, animalistic sex her neighbors were having coming through the apartment walls. Her mind was so full of thoughts of Emily that she nearly burned her dinner, and when she flopped down on her bed to relax for the evening, she forced herself to push those thoughts away and focus on something else. Hey, she hadn’t talked to her friends back home in a couple days; maybe that would be a good way to spend her evening. She opened her laptop and began typing out an email. _Dear Frankie…_

So Emily Prentiss was _definitely_ a lesbian, and Annie was starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, her fondness for the unit chief wasn’t _always_ 100% platonic. That was okay, maybe, as long as she didn’t think about it too much. She could admire and appreciate Emily as a beautiful, smart, successful, badass woman. She could admit that she found her kind of attractive and charming and fascinating without having to consider whether she might have _feelings_ for someone who was not only a woman, but also _her boss._ Instead, she just allowed herself to swell with pride whenever Emily praised her work, find reasons to cross paths with Emily or talk to her during the workday, let her eyes linger a little on Emily’s glossy hair and megawatt smile, and not read too much into any of it. It made her happy at her internship; it made her feel less homesick, and as long as that was all it was, it seemed harmless enough.

It seemed harmless enough until Emily wore that low-cut red blouse, and Annie found herself struggling to focus on anything else. The image lingered in her mind long after she’d left the office that day. It lingered in her mind as she lay in bed and felt her hand mindlessly slip below the waistband of her underwear. _It doesn’t mean anything,_ she told herself, _people masturbate all the time. It’s not jerking off to my boss; it’s just a little self-care._ She tried to think of _literally anything_ other than Emily as she touched herself, but her mind filled with thoughts of the beguiling older woman: her hair, her eyes, her smile, her dimples. Finally she just gave into it. She let herself imagine her own fingers were Emily’s, and shocked herself with the intensity of her own orgasm. Fuck, there was really no denying it anymore; Annie _definitely_ had a thing for her boss.

Annie started noticing little things. She noticed Emily smiling at her more, complimenting her more, spending more time by her desk. She didn’t want to read anything into it; she didn’t dare think a woman like Emily Prentiss could actually be attracted to her, and even if she were, it would be _highly_ inappropriate for her to act on it. Besides, from the information she’d been able to gather, it kind of seemed like Emily had a girlfriend. She definitely didn’t want to entertain the possibility of anything more than a professional relationship between her and the unit chief; that just seemed like a recipe for heartbreak. Still, when Emily’s dark, gorgeous, mesmerizing eyes met hers, Annie couldn’t help but feel like there was something there.

A hand resting on her shoulder as she worked one afternoon got Annie fantasizing about what might be, and the thoughts filled her mind on her commute home. She was snapped out of her daydream by the sound of her neighbors’ loud music making her apartment walls tremble, and she forced herself to focus on other things as she waited for her takeout to be delivered. But without the warm comfort of Emily’s smile to occupy her thoughts, Annie found herself feeling rather lonely. She still didn’t really have anyone here in Quantico outside the BAU, but at least she had people back home she could talk to. She opened up her laptop. _Dear Frankie…_

Sometimes at the end of the workday, the BAU team liked to go for drinks at O’Keeffe’s. Annie usually didn’t go—she wasn’t really sure if an intern would be welcome—but she had gone to O’Keeffe’s once before with JJ and Penelope. Tonight it seemed like the team would be going there again. Annie stayed at her desk; she was just going to finish responding to some emails and then go home and drink alone. She was telling herself that it was probably better that she _didn’t_ go drinking with the unit chief she was hopelessly attracted to, when a voice behind her made her spine tingle.

“Hey,” Emily said, “We’re all going for drinks at O’Keeffe’s. You’re welcome to join us, if you want.”

Annie couldn’t say no, not when Emily had _specifically_ invited her. Annie followed the team to O’Keeffe’s, growing steadily more nervous as she stood close enough to Emily in the elevator to breathe in the tantalizing scent of her shampoo. _Oh, fuck, what am I doing?_ she thought to herself, _Is this a bad idea? Shit, this feels like it’s probably a bad idea._ Her nerves began to subside, though, as she sipped her drink and chatted easily with the team. Her eyes kept darting over to Emily, but she was genuinely enjoying spending an evening with her coworkers. Gradually the other members of the team began spreading out around the bar or heading home to their families or dogs, leaving Annie alone with Emily. Annie tried her best not to let on how nervous and excited she was as Emily asked her about her post-internship plans.

“I mean, hey, you’re still in your twenties,” Emily assured her, “Nobody expects you to have it all figured out now.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Annie shrugged, “I’ve just sort of always been a planner, you know? Like when I first started college, I had this whole 15-year plan, and now it’s like my whole life has been going in a completely different direction, and, I mean, I _like_ this direction, but I just don’t really know how to…plan for it.”

“Oh, sweetie, you know you can’t plan for everything,” Emily said, looking into Annie’s eyes with a knowing, sympathetic expression.

“Yeah, I think I’m finally starting to realize that,” Annie said, staring deep into Emily’s gentle brown eyes.

Annie wasn’t sure what came over her, but something about the way the older woman looked at her sparked a fire in her belly that spurred her to lean forward and press her lips against Emily’s soft, perfect, deep red mouth. For one brief, fleeting moment, Emily allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of the kiss before gently pushing the young intern away.

“Annie, this can’t happen,” she said kindly but firmly, “I think we both know this can’t happen, and I’m sorry if I’ve given you any indication that it could.”

Annie blinked back tears and looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry,” she choked out. She could feel her face turning bright red. “I don’t even know why I thought you would—Fuck, I’m so stupid.”

“No, Annie, you’re not stupid,” Emily said reassuringly, gently placing her hand over Annie’s, “You’re bright, and you’re sweet, and you’re driven and funny and generous and resilient and…” she paused and bit her lower lip, “Stunning,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. Their eyes met again. “But you’re my subordinate,” Emily continued, “And you’re 24. And even if you weren’t, I already have a girlfriend. Look, Annie, you are a great girl, and any woman would be lucky to be with you, but I’m just not going to be that woman.”

Annie wiped away a tear and nodded. “Okay,” she managed to whisper.

The look on her face told Emily it really _wasn’t_ okay. “Hey, no, please don’t beat yourself up about this,” Emily said, “It really is fine. Look, as far as I’m concerned, there’s no reason why this has to change anything or make things awkward between us. I mean, you’re still the best intern we’ve ever had, and I’m still really glad to have you on my team, and I’m still going to write you a glowing recommendation for wherever you want to go next. So don’t worry about it, okay?”

Annie tried her best to take Emily’s words to heart. After the initial sting wore off, she was surprised to find that she wasn’t nearly as embarrassed or heartbroken as she thought she would be. Kissing her boss was definitely a mistake, but it wasn’t a disaster, and Emily turned out to be really, really good about continuing to work together without making Annie feel too awkward. Annie still found Emily incredibly attractive, but she kept her thoughts and interactions with the unit chief as professional as possible, and found there was plenty of other work for her to focus on. Even without Emily, there was still a lot she enjoyed about the BAU. The work was interesting, and all the agents on the team were kind and friendly to her. It really wasn’t so bad, this internship, even if she _had_ fucked up and kissed her boss.

Annie’s internship was coming to an end. It hadn’t been what she expected, but the regrets she had about leaving Greendale at the beginning of her time in Quantico had more or less subsided. Everyone always told her that internships were supposed to teach you something about what you wanted, and funnily enough, that’s exactly what her time at the FBI had done. It was time to think about her next steps, she told herself as she finished washing her dinner dishes to the sound of her neighbors’ yapping Pomeranian and sank down onto her bed with her laptop to do some research. Her options were wide open, and for once in her life, she was kind of okay with not having a concrete plan. There were some graduate programs back in Colorado that looked interesting; she’d definitely want to look into those more when she got home. _Home._ She still missed it, even if she no longer felt quite as homesick as she once did. She was happy to be going back soon. It wouldn’t be long now before she saw her friends again, and the thought warmed her heart and brought a smile to her face as she opened up her email and started typing. _Dear Frankie…_


	26. The White Collar Job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just an idea that’s been floating around in the back of my mind since I wrote the Diana/Alex chapter. Apologies if it feels a little similar to that. I guess maybe it’s kind of AU, since I really don’t know when or how it fits into either Leverage or White Collar canons. Diana Barrigan/Sophie Devereaux (White Collar, Leverage), rated M.

Diana was starting to get frantic. She was already running late, and now she couldn’t find her badge.

“Kaaaat!” she called to the woman in the other room. The older brunette peeked her head out from behind the bedroom door. “Katherine, honey, have you seen my FBI credentials?” Diana asked.

“Of course, darling, I put them right here on the bookcase so they wouldn’t get lost,” came the soothing English lilt as the room filled with the scent of expensive perfume.

Diana breathed a sigh of relief as she took her credentials back from her paramour. She felt a soft hand caress her neck and looked up into captivating dark eyes with a sheepish smile. She kissed the Englishwoman, letting herself relax and melt a little at the blissful sensation. She tore herself away, not wanting to leave this apartment, this moment, this woman who had just given her the best sex of her life. But even a gorgeous European actress couldn’t get between Diana and her work, and she grabbed her keys, blazer, and gun before stopping for a quick kiss goodbye and heading out the door.

She hurried into the office and had just poured herself her morning coffee when she looked up and saw Burke step out of his office and point two fingers at her and Jones. She knew that look, and she knew that point; they’d gotten a new case, and it would probably be a big one. She followed Jones into the conference room and pulled out a chair. Peter began briefing them on a recent gallery heist on the Upper West Side.

“We think this woman is behind it,” he said, “Sophie Devereaux. She first caught our attention when she stole a Stradivarius in 1996, but she’s mostly been either stealing from European millionaires or flying under the radar since then.”

Diana looked up and nearly spat out her coffee when she saw Katherine’s picture on the screen. “Sophie Devereaux, you said?” she coughed.

“That’s right,” Peter said, “Everything okay, Diana?”

“I’ve, um…encountered her before,” Diana said, “She used a different name, but it’s definitely her.”

As she headed to the gallery with Jones, her mind flashed back to a bit of post-sex pillow talk that had seemed insignificant at the time:

_“Oh, yeah, we’ve definitely seen some creative thieves in White Collar.”_

_“Hmmm? Creative how?”_

_“I’ve seen…gummy frogs used to trick biometric scanners, birds let loose in air vents to get security systems turned off, drinks spilled on paintings to get them moved to less secure rooms…”_

_“Very clever.”_

_“Oh, they’re good. But we’re better.”_

_“I’m sure you are, darling. Tell me more. Tell me all your daring tales of outsmarting clever thieves…”_

_Fuck._ Diana had walked _right_ into her trap. She’d just straight up _told_ Katherine— _Sophie_ —everything she’d need to know to pull off any heist she wanted without getting caught. She might as well have given her the blueprints and security codes. And the worst part was that the whole time she was playing the unwitting accomplice, she was actually starting to fall for Katherine— _Sophie—_ and actually thought she might have a future with the beautiful Brit.

There was no doubt about it; Sophie Devereaux was _definitely_ behind this heist. Diana began searching through all the places she’d been with Sophie: the apartment, the theater, all the bars and restaurants where they’d been on dates, the parks and museums they’d visited together; but she was gone, vanished without a trace. It was like she’d never existed. She wracked her brain, thinking back on the past six weeks since she’d first made the acquaintance of a charming, dark-haired Englishwoman who called herself Katherine. She replayed every conversation they had, every place they went, every little thing that Sophie did and said when they were together, desperate for some sort of clue that would tell her where to look. She worked the case with such dogged determination that she barely ate or slept. Peter wanted her to stop; she was spinning her wheels, driving herself crazy, and besides, they had other, more pressing cases to work on. She begged him to let her keep going.

“Sophie Devereaux is in the wind,” Peter said.

“I can find her, boss; I know I can,” Diana insisted, “Trust me.”

Three weeks went by before Sophie Devereaux popped up in Baltimore. The opening of the new Antiquities Exhibit at the Baltimore Museum of Art was one of the biggest events of the year for Baltimore high society, and Diana spotted one of Sophie’s known aliases on the guest list. She told Peter the good news, packed her very best dress, and hopped on I-95.

Sophie Devereaux—or rather, Sarah Jane Baker—leaned in to whisper in the ear of the museum’s head of security, swiping his badge and his keys while he was distracted by the scent of her perfume. She slipped out of the gala and headed to the restoration room with her designer heels in her hand, staying close to the wall to avoid the motion sensors.

“Hello, Katherine,” said a familiar voice behind her. Sophie turned around to see Diana. “Or maybe I should call you Sarah Jane,” Diana continued, slowly walking over toward Sophie, “I hear that’s what you’re going by these days, although we both know it’s Sophie. Sophie Devereaux?”

“Sophie Devereaux’s not my real name,” Sophie retorted, eyeing Diana nervously.

“Yeah, I care less about your real name and more about the multiple felonies you’ve committed,” Diana replied.

“You can’t prove any of that,” Sophie insisted, “Right now all you can prove is that I picked a security guard’s pocket. Are you really going to arrest me for _that,_ darling?”

“I _know_ you robbed the Powell Gallery,” Diana shot back.

Sophie stalked around Diana and grazed a hand over her back. “Hmmm,” she purred, “And when you have to explain _how_ you know, just what, exactly, do you plan on saying?” She stepped in close and stared into Diana’s eyes, placing one hand on the agent’s waist while the other gently stroked her cheek. “Face it, Diana,” she said, “You can’t arrest me without jeopardizing your career, and we both know you won’t do that.”

Diana leaned in even closer, so close she was almost kissing Sophie. “Watch me,” she said, as the cuffs clicked around Sophie’s left wrist. Sophie’s eyes widened, and her breath hitched in surprise.

“I remember the last time we used these,” she husked, and nipped at Diana’s earlobe in a last-ditch attempt to escape her predicament, “Don’t you?”

Diana smiled mischievously at Sophie, and Sophie felt her shoulders begin to relax. This was her game; she could grift her way out of anything. Her uncuffed hand snaked around Diana’s neck and pulled her in for a searing kiss. She felt Diana’s hands tangle in her hair, and she easily parted the younger woman’s lips with her tongue. She quickly unclasped the chain around Diana’s neck that held the handcuff key without the agent noticing, and slipped it into the waistband of her dress without breaking the kiss.

“Oh, Katherine,” Diana breathed.

“You were never just a mark for me, Diana,” Sophie said, “Let me go, and I’ll prove it to you.”

Diana hummed against Sophie’s neck as she slid her hand up the Englishwoman’s dress and between her thighs. Sophie rapidly forgot about everything that had happened up to this moment. There was no con, no mark, no priceless antiquities, no FBI chasing her; there was only Diana, and the immense pleasure she was currently giving her.

“I knew you’d still have a soft spot for me,” Sophie gasped as she came down from her orgasm.

“Actually, Kat, I just needed to keep you distracted for a while,” Diana replied, and nodded in the direction of a Black man and a blonde woman in FBI jackets walking their way. The look on Sophie’s face turned from pleasure to shock. Diana smirked, knowing she’d finally bested Sophie Devereaux.

“Hey! You’re just in time,” Diana said, “I’m Agent Barrigan.”

The tall Black man took off his sunglasses and nodded at Diana. “I’m Agent Thomas,” he said, “This is Agent Hagen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone not so familiar with Leverage, Agent Thomas and Agent Hagen are the recurring FBI aliases used by Hardison and Parker.


	27. First-Day Jitters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emily has some anxiety about taking over as unit chief, so she turns to the one person who always knows how to make her feel better. Emily Prentiss/Penelope Garcia (Criminal Minds), rated M.

“Oh, he definitely remembers you!” Penelope said as she watched Emily nuzzle the little black cat in her arms.

“Did you miss me, Serg?” Emily cooed, “I missed you, little kitty.”

“Yeah, probably more than you missed the rest of us, right?” Penelope teased, handing Emily a glass of white wine.

“Never,” Emily said, taking the glass from the blonde, “I missed _you_ most of all.”

Penelope looked at Emily with a soft, lopsided smile as she studied the soon-to-be unit chief’s deep brown eyes and slightly wistful expression. Something was definitely bothering Emily, but getting the tight-lipped brunette to talk about her feelings was never an easy task. At one point Penelope might have known exactly what to do and say to get her to open up _and_ think it was her idea to start talking, but Emily had been an ocean away for the past four years. Penelope was out of practice. She’d have to tread lightly.

“How’s the apartment hunt going?” she called out from the kitchen as she rummaged around in the cupboard for Emily’s favorite snacks.

“It’s good,” Emily said, forcing herself to sound cheerful. She put Sergio down and walked over to the couch. “I found a place I really like that’s going to be available next month, and it’s right by my old place, so I already know what the commute’s like.”

“Plus you’ve got a bunch of big, strong FBI agents to help you move in when the time comes,” Penelope added. She dropped a bag of kettle corn on the coffee table in front of Emily, then sat down on the couch beside her.

“That I do,” Emily laughed, “But I really don’t have that much stuff to move. You know me; I travel light.”

Penelope rested her arm on the back of the couch and looked deep into Emily’s eyes. “It’s really good to have you back, Em,” she said earnestly.

Emily smiled softly. “It’s good to be back.” Penelope watched the smile fade into a pensive pout as Emily sipped her wine and stared down into her glass.

“You’re biting your nails again,” Penelope observed quietly.

Emily furrowed her brow as she looked down at her left hand. “Yeah,” she admitted, “I guess I have had a lot on my mind lately. I mean, I did just make a pretty big decision.”

“You did…” Penelope said slowly, nodding her head. She met Emily’s eyes again and tilted her head forward slightly, silently urging the brunette to continue. Emily looked away and sighed. She reached into the bag of kettle corn and pulled out a handful before settling back on the couch and pulling her knees up close to her chest. Penelope rested her head against her hand as she watched Emily.

“Did you buy this just for me?” Emily asked between bites of kettle corn.

“No,” Penelope replied, “After you left for London, I started keeping it around because it reminded me of you.”

“Aw,” Emily giggled, “You’re adorable.” She gave Penelope’s arm an affectionate squeeze before picking her wineglass back up and taking a long sip.

After a long pause, Penelope finally said, “Penny for your thoughts?” Treading lightly wasn’t going to work this time.

“Hmmm?” Emily hummed. She turned her head to look at Penelope and raised her eyebrows, playing innocent. She should have known Penelope would still be able to read her like a book.

“Emily, it’s me,” Penelope said, gently placing her hand over the brunette’s, “I’ve known you for ten years; I can tell when something’s bothering you.” Emily shook her head and let out a sharp sigh. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again and cast her eyes down at the ground. She pulled her hand away from Penelope’s and curled up even tighter into the corner of the couch.

“What if this is a mistake?” she finally said, her voice halting.

Penelope’s mouth fell open as she met Emily’s gaze and tried not to show her disappointment at Emily’s words. “What, coming back here?” she asked nervously.

“No!” Emily insisted, “Not that. Becoming unit chief. I mean, it’s not really something I’ve ever _particularly_ wanted, and I just…What if I’m not ready?”

“Oh my god, of course you are!” Penelope assured her, “You were unit chief at Interpol, and you _kicked ass._ You’ve got this, Em.”

“That was more running an office than anything else,” Emily admitted, “But this…this is different. I mean, some of the decisions Hotch had to make as unit chief—I’m just not sure I could have done it.”

“No one expects you to be Hotch,” Penelope said, “You’re going to do great by being _you_ , because you’re smart, and you’re strong, and you’re brave, and you’re a great leader, and you care about people, and you’re not afraid to speak your mind and make the tough calls and do what’s right. You’re a hero, Emily Prentiss, and a total badass, too.”

Emily looked up at Penelope through her eyelashes and grinned. “How is it you always know _exactly_ what to say to make me smile?” she said. She uncurled her body and scooted closer to Penelope on the couch, letting her fingertips graze lightly over Penelope’s arm.

“Because I know you,” Penelope said, tilting her head and smiling at Emily, “And I love you. And I love making you smile.” She tucked a lock of silky black hair behind Emily’s ear. “You remember what we used to do before you went to London whenever one of us was feeling all anxious like this?” she asked coyly.

Emily bit her lip and nodded, still smiling up at Penelope. “Those were some good times,” she said. Penelope responded with a flustered giggle that made Emily’s heart skip a beat.

It had been so long since they’d been here, but when Emily looked into Penelope’s eyes, it felt like nothing had changed. She leaned forward and closed the distance between them, capturing Penelope’s perfectly painted lips with her own. Penelope reached up and cupped Emily’s cheek as she felt the brunette’s tongue slide effortlessly into her mouth. Her spine tingled at the familiar feeling of Emily’s mouth on hers and Emily’s hand sliding up her thigh.

“We shouldn’t,” Emily whispered, gently pushing Penelope away, “I’m about to be your boss.”

“Yeah, but you’re not yet,” Penelope insisted. She traced her fingers along Emily’s collarbone, fiddling with the neckline of her blouse. “Come on, sweetie, let me do this for you. For old times’ sake.”

Emily snaked a hand around the back of Penelope’s head and pulled her back in, kissing her deeply and passionately. She felt Penelope’s hands grip her waist and pull her onto her lap. She tangled her fingers in Penelope’s blonde waves and breathed in the scent of her perfume as the kiss became messier and hungrier, and both women started to feel an ache between their legs. Penelope broke the kiss and moved down to Emily’s neck, lavishing it with hot, wet kisses that caused the brunette to whimper quietly.

“Take me to bed,” Emily gasped, and Penelope was more than happy to comply. Once she had stripped Emily of her clothes and laid her back on the bed, she began kissing all over Emily’s body.

“You’re so beautiful, Em,” she murmured between kisses.

“Wait,” Emily whispered, “I want to see you, too.” She reached around and unzipped Penelope’s dress, and Penelope pulled back from Emily to wriggle out of it. “Oh, you’re even prettier than I remembered,” she breathed, tracing her fingers along the edge of Penelope’s lacy pink bra.

Penelope kissed her way down Emily’s body before settling between her thighs. Emily sighed happily and bucked her hips at Penelope’s touch. Even after four years, Penelope still remembered exactly how Emily liked to be touched, and she let her mouth and fingers rely on muscle memory, making Emily come twice as she writhed and panted and whimpered Penelope’s name. Penelope slid back up the bed and lay beside Emily. She kissed her gently and stroked her hair.

“Feeling better?” she cooed.

Emily grinned. “So much better.” She pulled Penelope in for another kiss and let her fingers tickle the back of the blonde’s neck.

“You want to spend the night?” Penelope asked.

“Eventually,” Emily nodded, “First I’d like to make you come.” She slid her hand between Penelope’s thighs, through damp blonde curls and down to where Penelope was hot and wet and waiting for her touch, and the tantalizing moan the blonde let out made Emily’s body feel like it was on fire. Penelope had meant for this to be all about making _Emily_ feel good and helping _Emily_ relax, but if this was what Emily wanted, hell, Penelope certainly wasn’t going to deny her.

“Oh, Penelope, baby, you feel so good,” Emily groaned. Pleasure coursed through Penelope’s veins as Emily’s nimble fingers moved between her legs, and she came with a long, high-pitched whine. Emily nuzzled against Penelope’s neck as she eased her down from her orgasm and placed a gentle kiss on the blonde’s flushed cheek.

When Penelope looked into Emily’s gentle brown eyes, she didn’t see the anxiety and uncertainty she’d seen earlier that evening. Emily was relaxed. She was happy. She was glowing. It made Penelope’s heart swell that she could still have this effect on Emily, could still calm her restless mind and give her the comfort she needed. She pulled Emily in for a cuddle and stroked her soft, dark hair.

“Sleep now, baby,” she said softly, and pressed a gentle kiss into Emily’s forehead.

“Thanks, P.G.,” Emily murmured against Penelope’s neck.

Penelope smiled. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

Emily did know. She’d always known. They might not be able to spend any more nights like this once she officially became Penelope’s boss, but it didn’t matter. Penelope had a million other ways of making her smile.


	28. Before I Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Emily reunites with the BAU team for an Interpol case, she makes the acquaintance of the newest team member, Dr. Tara Lewis. Set after S11E19, “Tribute.” Could be read either as a standalone or as a prequel to Chapter 14. Emily Prentiss/Tara Lewis (Criminal Minds), rated E.

The second margarita was probably a mistake. Tara could feel the alcohol starting to go to her head, and it was getting harder and harder not to stare at Emily Prentiss. She was just so _fucking beautiful_. Tara had heard a lot about Emily from the team, but they’d somehow all neglected to mention that she was unbelievably hot. She rested her elbows on the table and leaned in as she listened to Emily talk about living in London, hanging on every word that fell from the gorgeous Interpol agent’s perfect lips. Emily looked over at Tara and caught her admiring. Tara blinked and felt her face burn with embarrassment, but Emily just cocked her head and gave Tara a flirty smile. She’d secretly been admiring Dr. Tara Lewis from the moment they met; she was just a little better at being subtle about it.

Emily caught Tara’s eye as the team left the restaurant and dispersed. She was planning on hanging back, and she hoped Tara would, too. Soon it was just the two of them, standing in the parking lot beside Tara’s car. Emily tried her best to keep cool and not let on just how pleased she was to be alone with Tara.

“You don’t have a partner to get home to? Or a pet?” Emily asked.

Tara smiled and shook her head. “I don’t even have a houseplant.”

“Well, in that case, do you want to go somewhere?” Emily asked, looking up at Tara coyly, “I don’t leave ‘til tomorrow, and I wouldn’t mind some company.” Even in the dim light of the parking lot, Tara could see that Emily was blushing beautifully.

Tara nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.” She worked up the courage to take a step in closer to Emily and put a hand on her waist. Emily responded by reaching up and wrapping an arm around Tara’s neck, pulling her in to kiss her. The kiss was electrifying. Tara combed her fingers through Emily’s glossy black hair before breaking away and pressing her forehead against Emily’s as a satisfied smile crept across her face.

“My hotel’s only a few blocks away,” Emily whispered.

Emily didn’t even wait for the hotel elevator doors to close before her mouth was back on Tara’s. The feeling of Tara’s fingers against her scalp sent shivers down her spine, and she let her hands roam the taller woman’s body as they rode up to the 15th floor. She pulled herself away reluctantly when the elevator doors opened and took Tara by the hand, leading her down the hall to her room. She paused and reached up again for another kiss before opening the door and guiding Tara inside.

“You’re so beautiful,” Emily murmured, wrapping her arms around Tara and planting kisses along her neck, “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to focus on the case with a goddess like you walking around?”

“I think I might,” Tara chuckled, “You’re pretty distracting yourself.” She slid her tongue into Emily’s mouth and her hands under the hem of her sweater, running her fingertips over the soft skin of the shorter woman’s torso. She felt Emily flinch a little when her fingers grazed over a long, raised scar, and she made a mental note to avoid that spot. She broke the kiss to pull the sweater over Emily’s head, revealing perfect, full breasts encased in a cream-colored bra. Tara reached out to knead them gently as Emily pulled her back into a deep, passionate kiss, and she felt Emily’s nipples tighten under the soft fabric. Emily broke the kiss and quickly helped relieve Tara of her shirt, pants, shoes, and socks, then took a step back to admire Tara in just her bra and underwear. She was a vision, and Emily felt heat start to pool between her legs.

“Let me touch you,” Emily whispered in Tara’s ear. When she felt Tara nod, she slipped her hand between the taller woman’s thighs and fondled her over the thin fabric of her lacy red underwear. She licked and sucked her way along Tara’s neck and relished the way she gasped at the sensation. She felt Tara’s wetness through the fabric and wanted more than anything to taste her. She knelt down in front of Tara, hooking her fingers in the waistband of her underwear and pulling them down over long, muscular legs.

“Emily,” Tara whispered.

“Is this okay?” Emily murmured softly, looking up at Tara for approval as she draped one leg over her shoulder.

Tara braced herself against the hotel vanity. The sight of Emily on her knees in front of her, those gorgeous, brown bedroom eyes looking up at her adoringly was making her feel drunk and dizzy, but she managed to nod and gasp out a desperate “Please.”

Emily dragged her tongue slowly and luxuriously over Tara’s pussy, drinking in her fill. It was a good thing she was headed back to London tomorrow, she thought; otherwise, she could easily get addicted to this taste. Tara let her head fall back against the wall and moaned softly, the sound sending an electric jolt between Emily’s thighs. Emily took Tara’s clit into her mouth, suckling gently as she grazed the tip of her tongue over the sensitive underside.

“More,” Tara husked, “I want more.” Emily pressed her tongue harder against Tara’s clit, making her moan again, a little louder this time. Tara fought back against the urge to buck her hips against Emily’s mouth, but, oh, god, she was just so good at this. Emily had Tara right on the edge. She pressed on, and let her bottom teeth scrape so very gently against Tara’s clit. That was all Tara needed; she shuddered and gasped and whispered, “fuck!” as her orgasm washed over her in waves delicious ecstasy. She fell forward and rested a hand on Emily’s shoulder, but Emily didn’t stop. Instead, she slid a finger inside Tara and curled it against her g-spot, coaxing out a second orgasm on the heels of the first. Emily eased her down gently before pulling away. She wiped her chin with the back of her hand and smiled up at Tara as she rose to her feet.

“My god,” Tara gasped, “It’s been a long time since anyone’s made me come like that.” She pushed off the wall and wrapped her arms around Emily, pulling her in close and kissing her passionately.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve made a beautiful woman come like that,” Emily admitted with a slight laugh.

“Well, you have to let me return the favor,” Tara husked, gently pushing a lock of hair behind Emily’s ear.

Emily grinned and kissed Tara again. She led Tara over to the bed and pushed her down onto the mattress, then removed her own pants, bra, and underwear before straddling the taller woman’s lap and capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. Clearly, even when she was on the receiving end, Emily liked to be in charge.

“God, you have amazing breasts,” Tara murmured, pressing her lips against Emily’s collarbone.

“Touch them,” Emily instructed in a tantalizing whisper. Tara grazed her thumbs over Emily’s hardening nipples. Emily crashed their lips together and ground her hips down into Tara’s lap, letting Tara feel just how wet she was. She pulled back from the kiss and panted; Tara’s hands on her body felt so good, but she needed more.

“Your fingers,” she gasped, “I need you inside me.” Tara slid two fingers into Emily, who sighed happily at the contact. Emily began rocking her hips, riding Tara’s fingers, and _fuck_ if it wasn’t the sexiest thing Tara had ever seen in her life. She positioned Tara’s thumb to grind against her clit just how she liked, and threw her head back with a soft moan. Tara curled and twisted her fingers inside of Emily and nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin of her breasts, enjoying the string of breathy moans her touch elicited. Emily’s moans grew louder and more desperate as she neared her orgasm, and honestly, Tara wasn’t surprised to learn that Emily was a screamer.

“Oh, fuck, Tara!” Emily wailed as she arched her back against the taller woman and let her orgasm surge through her. She rested her head on Tara’s shoulder and placed gentle kisses on her neck as she came down from her high.

“Beautiful,” Tara murmured into Emily’s hair, “So fucking beautiful.”

Emily stood up and fished an oversized t-shirt out of her suitcase, looking over her shoulder at Tara with a flirty smile and a sexy pose before putting it on. Tara grinned at Emily; she’d definitely keep that image in her mind on cold, lonely nights when she needed to feel good. She stood up and gathered her clothes from the pile on the floor.

“You’ve got an early flight tomorrow, and I’ve got work,” she said, “I should probably…”

“I mean, yeah, if you think that’s best,” Emily shrugged. She didn’t expect Tara to stay, and that was fine, but she did think it might be nice to fall asleep in Tara’s strong arms.

“Probably,” Tara said, and began putting her clothes back on. It would be easier to say goodbye to Emily now than to let her go back to London after spending a whole night with her warm, lithe body snuggled up close under the covers.

“Well, if you’re ever in London…” Emily said, looking up at Tara through her long eyelashes with a coy smile.

Tara smiled back at Emily. “And if you’re ever back in D.C…” She leaned in and kissed Emily again before heading out the door. She could go home happy and sleep well knowing that tomorrow they would both return to their own lives. Secretly, though, she hoped this wouldn’t be the last she saw of Emily Prentiss.


	29. Pancakes and Paper Frogs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After JJ and Will separate, Tara steps up big time to help out with the boys, and the two women find themselves growing closer and closer. Honestly I just feel like we don’t appreciate enough how good Tara is with kids; plus, I’d never seen anyone write this particular pairing before. I’ve seen a couple of fics use this particular plot idea with an Emily/JJ pairing, but I kind of think Tara’s the better choice. Not only is she not JJ’s unit chief, but she herself has been through a difficult divorce, so she might be especially in tune with what JJ needs. Tara Lewis/Jennifer Jareau (Criminal Minds), rated T.

JJ was feeling pretty low when she pulled into her garage and put her car in park. She knew that seeing Will at Parents’ Night at Henry’s school would be awkward, but she was surprised by just how _draining_ it was, especially since most of the other parents in Henry’s class didn’t know they were separated. She’d noticed about halfway through the evening that Will wasn’t wearing his wedding ring, and she wondered when he’d stopped wearing it. She still couldn’t bring herself to take hers off, even though _she_ was the one who initially admitted things weren’t working, and _she_ was the one who decided the marriage counseling wasn’t actually helping. The truth was that things with Will had been over for a long time, long before he’d moved out. The band on her finger was just her way of holding on to some aspect of the life she always thought she’d have. She slumped down in her seat and let out a long, heavy sigh before unbuckling her seatbelt and heading into the house.

The sight she came home to was enough to lift her spirits and make her forget all about Parents’ Night. Tara and Henry were sitting on the couch playing Mario Kart, and they were both having so much fun that neither of them noticed JJ come in. Tara had been a godsend since the separation. She was a kind, supportive friend and a shoulder to cry on for JJ, a great babysitter and a calm, steady presence for the boys, and a genius in the kitchen who was always happy to come over when JJ was too exhausted to cook.

“Hey, guys,” JJ said, reaching over the back of the couch to rest a hand on Henry’s shoulder. They both turned and looked up at her.

“Oh, hey, JJ,” Tara said with a soft smile.

“Don’t let me interrupt your game,” JJ said.

“No, that’s okay,” Tara laughed, “Henry’s kicking my butt, anyway.”

“Oh, Mom, I made you something,” Henry said, hopping up off the couch and handing JJ a colorful paper frog.

“It’s beautiful, Henry,” JJ said.

“Tara’s been teaching me origami when she comes over to babysit,” Henry explained.

“Has she really?” JJ said, looking over at Tara, “I didn’t even know Tara knew origami.” Tara smiled and shrugged.

Leave it to Tara to find the perfect no-screens, minimal-mess activity to do with the sensitive, artistic 10-year-old. Will had tried relentlessly to get Henry into sports, which was just so not his thing. But Tara? Tara understood that Henry found joy in creating something from nothing, that he fidgeted because he needed something to do with his hands, that he had a real artistic talent that needed to be nurtured.

Tara rose from the couch and stood behind the little blonde boy, placing her hands gently on his shoulders. “Told you she’d like it,” she said, “Your mom just likes frogs.”

“I _do_ like frogs,” JJ laughed. She looked at her watch. “Alright, Henry, time to get ready for bed.”

“Goodnight, Tara,” Henry said, wrapping his arms around her in a tight squeeze.

“Goodnight, kiddo,” Tara said.

“Hey, wait a minute, don’t I get a goodnight?” JJ said as she watched Henry turn towards the staircase. Henry scampered over to kiss his mother goodnight before heading up to his room.

“Thanks again, Tara,” JJ said once Henry was upstairs, “Really, you’ve been such a huge help.”

“Of course, JJ, you know I’m always happy to spend time with the boys,” Tara replied. She picked up her jacket from the back of the armchair and looked around for her purse.

“You don’t…have to go,” JJ said, “I mean, if you’re not in a hurry or anything. You could stay a while.”

Tara smiled and put her jacket back down. “Yeah, okay.”

They did this dance most days Tara came over to babysit. JJ would offer, and Tara—if she wasn’t too tired and didn’t have somewhere else she needed to be—would stick around and have a glass of wine with JJ, and they’d talk and laugh and…Were they flirting? Neither one of them really knew for sure.

“You’re really great with them,” JJ said as she poured Tara’s favorite Riesling into two glasses, “You never wanted to have kids of your own?”

“It’s not that I _didn’t_ want them,” Tara said, taking a glass from JJ, “It’s more that I never really felt the _need_ to have them. And with my work and my…romantic history—It just wasn’t in the cards for me.”

“It still could be,” JJ shrugged.

Tara rolled her eyes and smiled. “I’m 45 and single; I think that ship might have sailed.”

Honestly, Tara had never felt particularly maternal until she started spending more time with JJ’s boys. When she first offered to babysit, it was more because her friend needed the help than because she liked the idea of spending time with the kids, but as she spent more time at the house and got to know Henry and Michael better, she found that she was starting to care for them every bit as much as she cared for their mother. And she cared for their mother _a lot._ She kept trying to remind herself that the middle of a separation and divorce was the worst possible time to be developing feelings for someone who really needed a _friend_ right now, especially when that someone was also a coworker, but still, JJ was just so beautiful, so sweet, so surprisingly strong and tough and resilient. Tara didn’t want to fall in love, but it was getting harder and harder not to.

Something about the way JJ was looking at her tonight as they sipped their wine and chatted made Tara suspect that maybe she wasn’t the only one feeling that way. She wasn’t tipsy, but the wine had made her just bold enough to reach out and run her fingers through JJ’s golden hair, an experimental gesture of affection that she could still walk back from if her feelings weren’t reciprocated. JJ responded by closing the distance between them and bringing her lips to Tara’s in a sweet but hesitant kiss. Tara pulled her in closer and deepened the kiss, and suddenly JJ wasn’t hesitant anymore. She slid her tongue into Tara’s mouth and kissed her passionately, releasing everything she felt for Tara—everything she’d been longing to feel for _someone_ for the last few years of her marriage to Will—against Tara’s soft, warm lips. Tara moaned softly, a little surprised by just how passionately JJ was kissing her. She thought JJ might have feelings for her that weren’t entirely platonic, but she hadn’t anticipated _this_. Her heart was racing, and her body felt warm and tingly, and it had been a long time since she’d felt this way. JJ slid her hands up under the hem of Tara’s shirt.

“Jennifer, wait,” Tara whispered, grabbing the blonde’s wrist.

“I’m sorry,” JJ said, pulling back from Tara abruptly, “I just—I don’t know, I thought you wanted this.”

“Oh, I do,” Tara assured her, “But not yet. You haven’t been with anyone since Will, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t have a whole lot of experience dating women. I just think it might be a good idea to take things slow.”

JJ smiled and nodded. “I can do slow,” she said. She placed a gentle kiss on Tara’s lips and rested her head on her shoulder with a soft sigh. Tara smiled and stroked JJ’s hair. They stayed there for a little while, just enjoying each other’s company.

“Oh, shit, it’s almost midnight!” JJ exclaimed when she saw Tara yawn and looked over at the clock, “You must be exhausted.”

“It’s alright,” Tara said, stretching her arms above her head, “You’re worth staying up for.”

JJ smiled and blushed. “You could still spend the night here…if you want to,” she offered, “We just don’t have to have sex or anything.”

Tara considered the offer. She _was_ tired, and a night of snuggling with JJ _did_ sound really nice. “Yeah, I want to,” she said. She stroked JJ’s cheek and kissed her again before following the blonde upstairs and into the bedroom. She changed out of her jeans and into a pair of JJ’s sweatpants while JJ brushed her teeth in the en suite bathroom.

“Um, what time do the boys usually wake up?” she asked, “I can make sure I’m out of the house before then.” She pulled back the covers and climbed into bed, lying beside JJ, but not touching her.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that,” JJ said, “I’ll just tell them we had a sleepover. Henry has sleepovers all the time; they won’t think anything of it.”

“You’re sure?” Tara asked.

“Yeah,” JJ assured her, “It’s not like you’re some stranger walking around their house in the morning; they love you, Tara.”

Tara’s heart swelled at JJ’s words. “Okay,” she said. She leaned over and gently kissed JJ’s cheek, brushing blonde hair back from her forehead.

“But, um, maybe we won’t tell them about…whatever this is…just yet?” JJ said nervously.

“Of course,” Tara nodded, “We don’t have to tell anyone about any of this until you’re ready.”

“That goes for you, too,” JJ assured her, “We don’t have to tell anyone or do anything until _you’re_ ready, too.” She stroked Tara’s cheek and kissed her tenderly.

“We’ll have to work extra hard to keep the team from figuring us out,” Tara said, “They _are_ skilled profilers.”

“Yeah, I’m honestly not too worried about them,” JJ yawned, “But, again, we won’t do anything until you’re ready.”

“I’m just thinking about those fraternization rules…” Tara said.

“Mmmmm, those rules were made to be broken,” JJ murmured, cuddling up against Tara and draping an arm over her waist.

Tara snorted. “I’m not so sure Emily would agree with that statement.”

“Yeah, right,” JJ sneered, “Emily’s done more than her share of fraternizing. Did you know she’s sleeping with that cute girl in the Art Crimes unit?”

“What, really?” Tara said.

“Yeah,” JJ laughed, “For like, almost a year now.”

“Hmm, good for both of them,” Tara mused, “I was wondering why we’d had a lot fewer late night calls this year.”

JJ erupted in a fit of giggles, and Tara pulled her in close to her chest to muffle the sound and keep her from waking the boys. They stayed there even after JJ’s laughter had subsided, JJ’s face nuzzled against Tara’s collarbone and Tara’s strong hands gently stroking JJ’s back. JJ tilted her face up to give Tara a sweet, tender kiss.

“Goodnight, Tara,” she whispered.

“Goodnight, JJ,” Tara whispered back.

It had been a while since either of them had shared a bed, and they were both very glad to be sharing it with each other. JJ felt safe and protected in Tara’s arms, and she slept easier than she had in years. She let the comforting rhythm of Tara’s heartbeat lull her to sleep, and her last thought before she drifted off was that this was the happiest she’d felt since splitting up with Will. It had been over a decade since Tara had shared her bed with another woman, and she’d forgotten how nice it could feel to snuggle up against the soft curves of a female form rather than the hard angles of a male one. JJ’s hair smelled like strawberries, and her breath was a warm, gentle tickle against Tara’s shoulder. Tara couldn’t help but notice that JJ fit perfectly into her arms, and she tried not to read too much into that—after all, she’d never really believed in things like _fate_ and _meant to be_. Still, this felt way too nice not to make a habit of falling asleep in JJ’s bed.

JJ felt a momentary panic when she woke up in the morning to an empty bed, but she heard noises from downstairs that assured her Tara hadn’t left. She rolled over to the other side of the bed and inhaled Tara’s scent on the pillow before getting up and heading downstairs. Tara was in the kitchen making pancakes with Michael.

“No, Mommy! It’s supposed to be a surprise!” Michael cried, running over to block JJ from entering the kitchen.

“Well, I am _very_ surprised,” JJ said, scooping the little boy up in her arms and giving him a kiss. She looked over at Tara and beamed.

“Those blueberries weren’t going to stay good much longer, and Michael said blueberry pancakes were your favorite,” Tara said with a smile and a shrug, “I think Henry’s still asleep.”

“Yeah, well, he’s 10; he likes to sleep in when he can,” JJ said, putting Michael down and tousling his hair, “We’ll wake him up when the pancakes are ready.”

The four of them ate breakfast together, a nicer family breakfast than JJ had had in a long time, even since before Will moved out. She kept looking over at Tara and thinking how nice it was to see her at the breakfast table with the boys, and how she really, really wanted to see this again and again and again.

“I’m really glad you stayed over, Tara,” she said earnestly once she and Tara had finished cleaning up the breakfast dishes.

“Yeah, me too,” Tara said.

“We should, um, do it again soon?” JJ suggested, looking up at Tara with a shy smile.

Tara smiled back. “Absolutely,” she said, giving JJ’s arm an affectionate squeeze.

JJ felt like she was floating as she watched Tara gather her things and hug the boys goodbye. Tara already fit so well into their lives. Tara was probably right about taking things slow, and JJ certainly didn’t want to get ahead of herself, but this wasn’t some fantasy; this was real. Tara really had become like a second mother to those boys, and they adored her. JJ did, too. How could she not? Tara was kind and loving and generous and thoughtful. She was brilliant and witty and sophisticated and charming. She was strong and brave and hardworking and confident. She was JJ’s Rock of Gibraltar and her dear, cherished friend. She was everything JJ had ever wanted in a partner and much, much more.

“Wait, Tara! You forgot something!” JJ called out as Tara unlocked her car. Tara turned around and saw JJ running down the steps of the front porch, blonde hair streaming beautifully behind her.

“What?” she said, checking her pockets and thinking what she could have left behind.

“This.” JJ threw her arms around Tara’s neck and kissed her passionately. She didn’t care if the neighbors saw, didn’t care if the boys saw—hell, Will could come by right now, and she wouldn’t even care if _he_ saw. JJ was falling in love with Tara Lewis, and she was proud of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I did put Emily with Diana again, what of it?


	30. Ugandan Discussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While at Interpol, Emily Prentiss has a one-night stand with the head of the Russia desk at MI6. Emily Prentiss/Carolyn Martens (Criminal Minds, Killing Eve), rated E.

It wasn’t like Emily to get nervous around beautiful women. Normally it took a lot to get her flustered. Normally she was much more composed than this. She was cool, confident, unshakable. She was attractive and she knew it, and she had no trouble going after what she wanted. But this was _Carolyn fucking Martens_ , head of the Russia desk at MI6. The woman was a legend, and Emily had been following her work from her first stint at Interpol several years ago. She was somehow even more impressive in person: poised and elegant with impeccable posture and striking features, effortlessly stylish, quietly commanding, icy and mysterious, and yet somehow charming and funny, piercing hazel eyes that stared straight into Emily’s soul and a smooth, silky, bewitching voice with a sophisticated Received Pronunciation accent.

When she’d first walked into Emily’s office the previous morning with intel on Russian arms traffickers hiding out in East London, Emily got butterflies in her stomach. She felt like a starstruck teenager again, like she was back in her freshman year of high school, and Carolyn was the gorgeous prom queen. The case required her full attention, she had to keep reminding herself, and it wouldn’t do to fixate on Carolyn’s blue silk scarf or the smell of her expensive perfume. In the office, she could be focused and professional, but now Carolyn wanted to meet for dinner, just the two of them. She’d insisted on meeting Emily at a Japanese restaurant in Knightsbridge, an expensive, high-end place that was much, much nicer than Emily’s usual haunts, although she’d always thought she might take her mother there, if she ever bothered to come visit her in London. Emily would have to dress up a bit—for the _restaurant_ , not for _Carolyn_ , she reminded herself. She put on a crimson dress and a pair of black heels and curled her hair.

Carolyn was standing outside the restaurant in a black silk blouse, tailored gray wool slacks, a green patterned scarf, high heeled boots, and a stylish trench coat. She greeted Emily and led her into the restaurant.

“Red is your color, Emily,” she said as Emily took off her coat and sat down at the ornate table for two. Emily smiled and blushed at the compliment. Here in the restaurant, Carolyn was a little more relaxed, a little more conversational, but every bit as intimidating and captivating and impressive as she had been in Emily’s office.

“I knew your mother, many, many years ago, when she was posted to Ukraine,” she told Emily between sips of sake, “Funny, she never mentioned she had a daughter.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Emily chuckled.

“Well, I’m sure she mentioned you to other colleagues,” Carolyn said, “I’ve simply never been one for small talk and all that. I’m sure she boasted about you all the time.”

“Oh, she didn’t,” Emily replied dryly.

“I would,” Carolyn said looking straight into Emily’s deep brown eyes and noticing the younger woman blush once again, “How is Elizabeth?” she continued, moving on quickly, “Is she well?”

“She’s…Elizabeth,” Emily said with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

Carolyn chuckled. A diplomatic non-response—perhaps Emily Prentiss had inherited more from her mother than just pretty dark hair and expressive brown eyes.

“I’d rather not talk about my mother, if that’s okay,” Emily continued, “I’m in a very nice restaurant, enjoying an excellent meal with a beautiful woman; the last thing I want to think about right now is my _mother_.” She looked away quickly and cleared her throat when she realized that she’d actually called Carolyn beautiful to her face, but Carolyn didn’t seem put off by it. If anything, she appeared pleased, and Emily thought she saw the traces of a smile flicker across the older woman’s face.

Carolyn was quite possibly the most fascinating woman Emily had ever met. After nearly 25 years in British intelligence, there seemed to be very few places she hadn’t been, people she hadn’t met, or things she hadn’t seen and done. After a brief, obligatory discussion of the case they were working on, the conversation soon drifted to Carolyn’s work, and Emily listened with rapt attention, hanging on every word. Carolyn enjoyed having such an appreciative audience, especially one as good-looking as Emily, and the way Emily was looking at her only spurred her on. At this point they were openly flirting with each other, and Emily’s body was tingling with excitement.

“The wonderful thing about our line of work is there’s always another adventure,” Carolyn mused, looking at Emily with a knowing smirk, “When you’re young, you can be as adventurous as you want. Fifteen years ago, if I had met a charming, dark-haired American working for Interpol, well, to be perfectly frank, darling, I would have taken you home and fucked you,” she continued nonchalantly, taking a sip of her drink. Emily felt a shiver in her spine and an ache between her legs. Had Carolyn really said that?

“You still could,” she said, looking at Carolyn through her long eyelashes.

Carolyn chuckled, then looked at Emily with a softer expression than Emily had seen before. “Oh, you’re so young,” she said softly.

“I’m 43,” Emily retorted, “I’m not some young girl.”

“No,” Carolyn murmured, looking Emily over carefully, “You’re a very attractive woman.” Emily grinned and blushed. She reached across the table and grazed her fingers against Carolyn’s.

“So…” she began.

“Hmmm,” Carolyn hummed, “Maybe I will take you home and fuck you after all.”

The cab ride to Carolyn’s house was a blur. Emily remembered Carolyn’s eyes looking her over appreciatively, her hand reaching out and brushing a lock of hair out of her face, her voice whispering in her ear that a beautiful woman like Emily deserved to come over and over again. Emily was actually trembling with anticipation as she got out of the cab and followed Carolyn into the stately house. She felt dizzy, and she thought her heart might burst from her chest. Carolyn kissed her deeply once they were inside, tangling her fingers in Emily’s long, silky hair.

“Come along, darling,” Carolyn said cheerily, leading Emily up to the bedroom. Emily’s heart was pounding in her ears, and her skin felt like it was on fire. She moaned softly at the tantalizing feeling of Carolyn’s lips on her neck and her strong, sure hands gently undressing her. She was vaguely aware of Carolyn telling her what a beautiful body she had, but she was too distracted by Carolyn unbuttoning her own blouse to formulate a response. She did manage to snake her hands around Carolyn’s neck and mash their lips together in a searing, passionate kiss, letting herself get so lost in the sensation that she didn’t notice Carolyn opening a drawer and pulling something out. Then suddenly, a question snapped her back into reality and made her gulp.

“It’s not too big for you, is it, darling?” Emily’s eyes widened when she saw the dildo in Carolyn’s hands. Oh, shit, this was really happening; Carolyn Martens was about to fuck her with a strap-on, and Emily was desperately wet just thinking about it.

Carolyn stripped down to her bra and underwear and fastened the harness around her waist before laying Emily back on the bed and straddling her thighs. Emily’s skin was already flushed a delicious shade of pink, and Carolyn couldn’t wait to make her moan. She leaned down and kissed Emily’s perfectly red lips before moving on to her neck and her breasts. She slid one hand down between the younger woman’s thighs, relishing how wet and ready she was. She pressed kisses into Emily’s neck as she fucked her with two fingers and rubbed her thumb against her clit. Emily responded with a string of wanton, delectable moans that grew louder and higher as Carolyn brought her closer and closer to her climax. She arched her back and clenched around Carolyn’s fingers as she came.

“Oh, that’s a good girl,” Carolyn purred as she removed her fingers from Emily and sucked them clean, “I think you’re ready for me now.”

She lined the toy up with Emily’s pussy and slid inside her with a smooth thrust. Emily let out a sharp hiss as the toy filled her. She usually liked to be on top, but right now, there was nowhere in the world she would rather be than under Carolyn. She dug her fingers into the older woman’s back and bucked her hips up to meet each thrust, causing the base of the toy to grind perfectly against Carolyn’s clit. Emily was panting and wailing and writhing under Carolyn, who had never been more turned on than she was watching Emily fall apart like this. Emily wrapped her legs tight around Carolyn’s waist and came with a long, keening moan. It was sexy enough to send Carolyn tumbling over the edge with her, and she panted and groaned against Emily’s neck as she came.

“Well,” she panted as she pulled out of Emily and slipped off the harness, “I don’t know about you, but I could use a cup of tea before we go on.” She kissed Emily gently and smiled as she brushed a lock of glossy black hair out of her face.

“Go on?” Emily gasped.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re done,” Carolyn cooed, “I have so many more things I want to do to your body.”

Emily laughed and pulled Carolyn in for another kiss. “I can’t wait.”

“Lovely,” Carolyn said, nuzzling her nose against Emily’s. She rolled over and grabbed a silk robe which she tossed to the younger woman. “Now be a good girl and make me a cup of tea, and I’ll make you come again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is a reference to S1E6 of Killing Eve, and Carolyn’s “Ugandan discussions” with Vlad and Konstantin.


	31. Mile High

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You just know that jet has definitely seen some sexy times! Emily Prentiss/Jennifer Jareau (Criminal Minds), rated E.

Since her return from the “dead,” Emily had been obsessed with crossing things off her bucket list—all the things she wanted to do before she died for real. At the top of the list: Join the Mile High Club. This flight tonight, tucked away in a corner of the jet with JJ, out of the view of the rest of the team, who were all sleeping soundly, anyway…Well, it just seemed like the perfect opportunity to cross something off her bucket list—if she could get JJ to agree to it. She wasn’t worried about noise; JJ had always been pretty quiet in bed—that disappointed Emily a little at first, but now she kind of liked it because it just made it that much more special on the rare occasions when JJ _did_ scream Emily’s name, and it was definitely lucky for Mile High Club purposes. And they’d snuggled up under a blanket on many a flight, even before they’d started sleeping together. She could easily fuck JJ right here on this plane without any of her colleagues being any the wiser.

“JJ,” she whispered. The blonde looked up from her magazine. Emily looked around the plane suggestively, signaling that they were the only two awake right now.

JJ smiled at Emily and laughed silently. She should have expected something like this. Emily, bless her, was not the best at being subtle or discreet, let alone work appropriate. She was always pulling JJ aside and stealing kisses, whispering in her ear, playing footsie under the table. JJ was all but certain Emily was going to get them caught one of these days, but she didn’t dare make her stop, because, well, it made her kind of hot when Emily teased her mercilessly at work. She cupped her hand under Emily’s chin and pulled her in for a brief but passionate kiss before returning to her magazine. Emily wasn’t satisfied, though. She pulled a blanket over both of them and snuggled up next to JJ, planting soft kisses into her neck. JJ turned and gave Emily a playfully exasperated eye roll.

“You’re going to get us in trouble,” she whispered to the flirty brunette.

“Not if we’re extra quiet,” Emily whispered back with a coy smile. She leaned in for a kiss and began running her hand over JJ’s body under the blanket, grazing over her breasts, her abs, her thighs. JJ was getting very turned on, but she was reluctant to encourage this kind of behavior from Emily. She felt Emily’s hand reach over and unzip her pants, and she pulled back from the kiss in surprise.

“Em, what, seriously?” she whispered, “We can’t!”

“Why not?” Emily pleaded.

“Um, maybe because we’re at work, on a jet, surrounded by our profiler coworkers?” JJ laughed.

“They’ll never know,” Emily whispered, nipping at JJ’s ear. She could tell JJ was getting aroused.

“You’re shameless,” JJ giggled, turning her head to kiss Emily. Emily looked at her with pleading puppy dog eyes, and JJ sighed quietly and nodded.

Emily slipped her hand into JJ’s underwear and began stroking her. She looked into JJ’s sparkling blue eyes with a mischievous stare as she felt the blonde grow wetter at her touch. Their position on the plane made it hard for her to get her fingers inside JJ, but she could still press two fingers against JJ’s clit and rub slow, tight circles, just the way JJ liked. JJ was so wet and so wild and so incredibly turned on, and fuck, maybe she had a bit of an exhibitionist streak to her. She shifted forward and adjusted herself so that Emily’s fingers pressed against her clit at just the right angle, and she let her mouth fall open and her eyes roll back in her head. She was so close now. She rested her head on Emily’s shoulder and panted quietly into her neck. Emily found that incredibly hot, and if she trusted herself not to moan, she’d want JJ to get her off, too. Oh, well, that could wait until they were off the plane.

“Oh, fuck, Emily,” JJ whispered. She arched her back and shuddered and came with a sharp gasp in Emily’s ear. Emily nuzzled against JJ’s cheek as she slowly and gently pulled her hand out of JJ’s underwear.

“Coffee?” Emily said casually as she rose from her seat, knowing full well that JJ didn’t have the presence of mind right now to answer yes or no. She turned and looked over her shoulder at the still-flustered blonde as she licked her fingers clean with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, and smiled to herself as she sauntered over to the back of the plane.


	32. Nothing Left to Lose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Linda Barnes may have tried to break up the BAU, but she only succeeded in bringing Tara and Emily closer together. Set during S13E16, “Last Gasp.” Emily Prentiss/Tara Lewis (Criminal Minds), rated M.

Linda Barnes, in her crusade against the BAU, had reassigned most of the team. Tara now spent her days mediating between squabbling partners, while Emily was stuck doing thankless grunt work at OPR. A tight-knit group that used to spend more time with each other than with their own families and loved ones now only saw each other when they got together after work to commiserate, like they were tonight. The night air was cool and crisp as Tara leaned forward against Emily’s balcony.

“I mean, who knew there were so many dysfunctional partners in the Bureau?” she laughed.

“I’m learning the hard way,” Emily said, “I had _three_ stakeouts with Odenkirk last week.”

“I know how much you love those,” Tara deadpanned.

“And it’s one thing to be out in the field with him,” Emily continued, “But sitting with him in a car for hours on end—he smells! Like dirty tightie whities dipped in sweat.”

“Ugh,” Tara groaned, “Barnes really knew how to punish you, I mean, sticking you with him? A not-so-subtle reference to what happens to agents who transgress?”

“And there is no dirt on Barnes in the OPR database; she is squeaky clean,” Emily lamented.

“You pulled her file?” Tara asked.

“I thought maybe we’d get lucky,” Emily laughed.

Tara sighed. “So, what now?”

“I don’t know what our next move is,” Emily admitted.

“Well, we have _got_ to think of something,” Tara said, “I do not know how much more of this assignment I can take.”

“I’m right there with you, Tara,” Emily sighed, “I just keep thinking what I could have done differently—”

“Emily, no,” Tara urged, turning to face her, “You can’t do that. None of this is on you.”

Emily looked up at Tara with a reluctant half-smile. “I’m supposed to look out for you guys.”

“And you do,” Tara insisted, “All the time. And _incredibly_ well. We’re all really, really lucky to know you, Em.”

She ran a hand along Emily’s bicep and looked deep into her gentle brown eyes with a soft smile. Emily was always impossibly beautiful, but tonight, standing on the balcony in the moonlight, she took Tara’s breath away. Under normal circumstances, Tara would never allow herself to think about Emily this way, but these were hardly normal circumstances. She took a step closer to Emily and stroked her cheek. Emily turned her head to place a gentle kiss on Tara’s palm. She looked back up at Tara with bedroom eyes and slightly parted lips, and let her hands gravitate to the taller woman’s waist. Tara inched even closer, craning her neck down slowly.

“I’m your unit chief,” Emily whispered, turning her head away from Tara.

Tara reached out and put a finger under Emily’s chin, guiding her back. “Technically you’re not right now,” she murmured.

Emily chuckled softly. “That’s a very good point.”

She closed the distance between them and kissed Tara, softly and hesitantly at first, but it soon became deeper and more passionate. She threw her arms around Tara’s neck and pulled her in close. Tara melted at the sensation. She parted Emily’s soft lips with her tongue and explored the inside of the shorter woman’s mouth while her hands explored the ridges of her spine. It had been way too long since Emily had kissed a gorgeous woman on her balcony in the moonlight, and though she still felt a little uneasy about professional boundaries, a part of her was very, very glad it was Tara.

“Are you sure this is okay?” she asked, pulling away from the kiss and looking up at Tara with a worried frown.

Tara cupped Emily’s face with both hands and gazed into her eyes. “I want this,” she insisted, “I want _you_.”

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable…” Emily said softly.

“I don’t,” Tara assured her, running her fingers through glossy black hair. Emily stepped back in and kissed Tara again, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she pulled away.

“Will you…come to bed with me?” she asked quietly.

Tara smiled. “I’m so glad you asked.”

Emily led Tara into the bedroom and began kissing her passionately as they both shed their clothes. She slid her hands up the smooth skin of Tara’s abdomen and palmed her breasts, enjoying the way Tara sighed happily at the contact. Tara walked Emily over to the bed and laid her back on the mattress, climbing on top of her and sinking a toned thigh between the smaller woman’s legs. She felt dull fingernails scrape against her bare back as she moved against Emily. After everything Emily had been through with Linda Barnes, she deserved to feel good, and Tara wanted to make her feel _very_ good. She wanted to make her fall apart completely. She let Emily’s breathy, satisfied whimpers direct her how she liked to be touched, coaxing out orgasm after orgasm with her nimble tongue and fingers until Emily was too overstimulated to take any more.

“Oh my god, Tara,” she gasped as she came down, “Where did that come from?”

“Was it okay?” Tara asked nervously, “It seemed like it was a lot for you.”

“Okay?!” Emily laughed, “Tara, honey, it was more than okay; it was incredible.” She exhaled sharply and ran a hand through her hair. “Give me a minute, and I’ll thank you properly.”

Tara grinned and grazed her fingers over Emily’s collarbone. “You’ve, um, actually done quite a bit for me already; that was…incredibly hot.”

Emily smiled and blushed. “I’d like to do more, if you’d let me,” she said coyly.

“Oh, Emily, baby, you can do whatever you want,” Tara groaned, leaning down and catching Emily’s lips in a bruising kiss.

Once Emily was sufficiently recovered, she flipped Tara onto her back and set to work making her come undone. She kissed her all over, paying extra attention to her breasts before working her way down to her final destination. Maybe in her dreams Tara had occasionally allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to have Emily Prentiss’ head between her legs, but the real thing was so much better than any fantasy. Emily’s skillful tongue sent shockwaves of pleasure surging through her body. She’d never really been a screamer, but by the time her third climax hit, she was moaning and wailing so loudly she worried Emily might never be able to face her neighbors again. When she finally caught her breath, she noticed Emily looking up at her, grinning from ear to ear and looking incredibly pleased with herself.

“Come here, you,” she laughed, taking Emily’s hand and pulling her up into her arms. Emily curled her body against Tara’s, and they fit together perfectly. Tara sighed contentedly and nuzzled her cheek against Emily’s forehead as they snuggled together in comfortable, happy silence. For tonight, they could forget all the shit they had to deal with at work and just feel connected and happy and alive. Sex couldn’t solve all their problems, but after everything that had happened in the past few weeks and the past year, they both needed this. No matter what might happen tomorrow, tonight they had something Linda Barnes could never take away.


End file.
